Ikari Kenpachi
by Akemi Homura-san
Summary: Aizen Sōsuke will be known as a merciless killer, a manipulative mastermind of the highest order. Who better to get him to show his more human side than Ikari Shinji, who, having recently committed suicide, awakens in Soul Society fifty years after the Quincy War? EVANGELION X BLEACH CROSSOVER. Begins 150 years before Bleach. M for violence, language, and a splash of yaoi.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Ikari Shinji didn't expect anything to come after his suicide at the shores of the sea of LCL. He had expected oblivion, and possibly to be reunited with Rei there, in the endless ocean of nonexistence. What he hadn't expected was to wake up to the smell of grass moments after he had breathed his last. When he woke up in that meadow, with the cool wind blowing across his body, still clad in his school uniform, the birds chirping in the trees as they leaned in the breeze, he thought that perhaps he had come to Heaven, in which case, someone had made a dreadful mistake. He didn't know much about Christianity, or any form of afterlife, for that matter, but he was fairly certain they didn't much like people who profaned the throne of God in Paradise.

Regardless, this wasn't what he wanted. In his opinion, any Paradise that was devoid of Rei was no Paradise at all. But he sighed. It wouldn't be the first time the Cosmos and the powers that be had decided to put him through Hell. Perhaps that was the point—that this was Hell, and that it looked like Heaven, mocking him with its idyllic perfection, marred by the void in his life and in his heart left behind by Rei's absence. It figured that when what he wanted most was oblivion, he got the afterlife.

He got up and stood, looking around to see what his personal Hell had in store. He was in the middle of a forest of some kind, so he picked a direction and started walking. After all, he might as well serve his punishment for almost wiping out the human race. It wasn't long, though, before he crested a hill and looked out to the horizon as the sun dawned over this strange new world he had been forced into against his will. And on that horizon, there was a sprawling city not far from where he was, with outskirts and slums and all the trappings of a normal city. Perplexed by how a place like Heaven would even have slums, he kept looking and saw an enormous white wall separating the city from what looked to be a military complex, and in the center was a series of towers that looked almost like a European citadel, which was strangely incongruous with the rest of the architecture he could see. The city, with the exception of the citadel, looked like what he would imagine Old Kyoto looked like back in the days before the Meiji Era, from what the textbooks they had had in Tokyo-3 had described, anyways.

"Well, I guess that's what's waiting for me," Shinji sighed, beginning the walk to the horizon, and to the gates of the city that expanded before him.

It didn't take him long to get there, not by any stretch of the imagination. He imagined that the city, then, must have been much larger than he had initially thought to be so small on the distant horizon, and yet to begin so close. He walked, then, through what looked to be cultivated countryside and into the outer regions of the city, and saw poverty and starvation aplenty. Violence and thievery seemed the order of the day, and more than once did he see a gang of small children running away from a merchant-looking fellow wearing traditional Japanese clothing. In his white short-sleeved shirt, trousers and sneakers, Shinji felt quite decidedly like some sort of anachronism, as if he had simply travelled back in time.

No, this wasn't Paradise, not for him and not for anyone. Not if such squalour and lawlessness could persist within its boundaries even after death. Shinji took a deep breath and exhaled. If this wasn't anyone's Paradise, then logically it couldn't be his personal Hell, the absence of Rei regardless. Where was he? What was this place?

"Soul Society. Specifically, West Rukongai, District Eighty," came a cold female voice behind him, and when he turned around, expecting some Yakuza Amazon with a gun to his head, instead he found a woman who was tall and lean, wearing elaborate traditional black clothing and a blood-splattered white haori. From her head cascaded long dark hair, but her face was bloodthirsty and violent, like everything evil about the Evangelions had formed and coalesced into a human being. "Otherwise known as my garden. You some sort of new arrival?"

Her demeanour was imposing, for certain, and it stalled Shinji's tongue, but as he tried then to speak, he was stopped. There was a weight pressing down on his shoulders, an annoying one that grew gradually by the moment, but as he continued to stand, the gloomy, menacing woman's eyes widened. "Impressive. You have quite a bit of reiryoku, don't you? That amount of reiatsu ought to have crushed a seated officer…"

Suddenly, the weight lifted, and Shinji noticed from the aching pain in his jaw that he had been gritting his teeth. He almost stumbled forward, however, as the weight, the reiatsu of this person, this creature, evaporated as quickly as it did, and she made no moves to steady him, instead watching with an almost sadistic glee as he got his footing once more.

"What are you?" Shinji asked, unnerved by the woman's strange ability.

"Unohana Kenpachi, Captain of the Eleventh Division of the Gotei 13. I'm a Shinigami," she replied, cocking her head. "Your eyes…they are accustomed to fear, and yet, I see no fear in them."

Shinji's alarm quickly dissolved, and he thrust his hands into his pockets as he suddenly found his shoes very interesting. "Yes, I suppose I'm not afraid, am I? Then again, after you reach a certain point, feelings like fear tend to seem a little silly in the face of all that you've seen and done, don't they?"

The Shinigami laughed, and the sound was like gravel and dust grating together. It was not a pleasant sound, to say the least. "You're an interesting one, aren't you? In fact, you're amusing enough that I'll let you live. It would be a waste, after all, for such a promising potential Shinigami to die here, in this squalid wasteland."

"What do you mean?" Shinji asked, perplexed and confused by this erratic, strange person with whom he was dealing.

"What is your name?"

"That's not an answer."

"Very observant. It was a question. What is your name?"

Shinji shook his head as if to try and shake himself from a bad dream. "Wha… Why do you even care?!"

Unohana shrugged. "I don't. It would just look very strange should my sponsorship request not specify the name of the Plus I'd be sponsoring."

Shinji shook his head and sighed. It seemed that the more things changed, the more things really did stay the same. Unohana was like a scarier, delinquent version of Misato, almost. In situations like this, he had long since discovered that it was best to just go along with this. It was his atonement, after all. The punishment for his sins, one way or another. For what cosmos would let a monster like him get off scot-free? He sighed, and bowed respectfully. "Very well. Ikari Shinji. Yoroshiku onegaishimasu."

"Pleased to meet you, Ikari-san. Welcome to Soul Society," Unohana replied with an amused smile on her face, which looked quite creepy with her otherwise still quite menacing expression. If anything, he trusted this woman less than he trusted his own father at the moment, and considering his father was Ikari Gendo, that was saying something.

* * *

The next day saw Shinji in a dormitory, staring at himself in a mirror. His clothes from his life were gone, and in their place was a blue shitagi, a white kosode with blue stripes, blue hakama, white tabi and straw zori. He ran his hand through his mess of brown hair a few times, but was unable to make it appear as though he actually belonged in the clothes he was wearing. He knew that prior to Second Impact, this kind of garb was common for festivals like Tanabata, but he had never been to a Tanabata festival in his life. Studying had always taken priority, and then after that, 'saving the world' had been his singular purpose. He sighed at his reflection. "Well, when in Rome…"

Apparently, being sponsored by who seemed to be the most feared Shinigami captain in all of Soul Society was grounds for immediate admittance into Shinōreijutsuin, to learn the arts and responsibilities of Shinigami, without having to take, let alone pass the entrance exam. This annoyed Shinji, as he didn't want any special treatment that could possibly bring any undue attention to him. Kami, he could already hear Asuka's shrill voice mocking him as the _Invincible Shinji,_ and he knew that if he continued to stand out, he was going to keep hearing her admonitions over what appeared to be the next _six years_ of his life.

He picked up his rucksack that he had been given, and, looking at his schedule, began to head to the lecture hall. Unohana had had one of her Eleventh Division grunts show him around the campus so that she could go back to killing people, so he knew where to go. As a result of this, he sat down in his seat in the lecture hall on time, and had to wait a good five or ten minutes before the _teacher_ showed up, let alone the rest of the students.

He sighed. Apparently he didn't even need Unohana in order to stand out, much to his chagrin. His sense of punctuality did a fine job of doing that for him. If he was the type, like Suzuhara, he most probably would have sworn under his breath. As it stood, he merely shook his head. Such things were seemingly bound to happen to him, and he supposed that simply accepting that as the reality of his existence would go a long way towards making that existence that much more bearable.

A sheathed blade was slammed down onto the desk in front of him by a panting messenger, wearing the black garments Shinji had learned were called 'shihakushō', and bearing a look of nothing short of utter terror in his eyes. He took a deep breath and blurted out, "Unohana-taichō sends her regards!"

Shinji was stunned into silence, ever so painfully aware of the stares the little scene was drawing from the other students, and groaned internally, praying to whichever kami were seeing fit to torment him so that they might forgive him and stop sending random inconveniences his way, and that the obvious Eleventh Division Shinigami messenger boy would take his leave with all possible haste. Externally, however, he smiled and bobbed his head. "You have my gratitude, it seems. Thank the good captain on my behalf, if you please."

The Shinigami huffed in relief, bowed low, and took off, no doubt to inform Unohana her instructions had been followed. Shinji looked upon the blade, and saw that there was a note attached to it; and on the note, in a hand that Shinji could not help but associate with Unohana, was a message.

 _Ikari-san,_

 _My apologies as to the gross incompetence of the men serving under me. Attached to this note is the asauchi you were supposed to receive immediately following the conclusion of your impromptu tour yesterday. Rest assured that the man who neglected to give it to you is being disciplined most thoroughly._

 _Regards,_

 _Unohana Kenpachi_

 _Captain, Eleventh Division_

 _For such an intimidating woman, she has a surprisingly formal mode of writing,_ Shinji thought as he looked over the message. _I don't see a single Hiragana kana in this note at all…_

Putting the accompanying note aside for the present moment in time, Shinji looked upon the sword itself. It was of Japanese make, a katana, altogether nondescript, unremarkable, and seemingly devoid of all identity. But it was… _hungry,_ almost, as if it was actively desiring an identity of its own, a _name_ of its own, more than anything else in the world. And so he took it up in his hands, and he _concentrated._

Everyone in the lecture hall ceased their pre-class chatter and looked directly at the fifteen-year-old boy whom nobody had seen at the entrance exams, watching as a deep and somehow virulent violet aura began to envelop him and the asauchi that had just been delivered into his keeping. For Shinji, the sensation was not at all dissimilar from the numerous synch tests he had run in the entry plug of EVA-01, which for him had quite literally only been two days prior. The tenor of it was at once both more tranquil and much more demanding, the blade drawing in his energy, and at that moment, Shinji thought he understood how his mother felt in her final moments, before EVA-01 devoured her soul and left him effectively orphaned. He sighed, and awaited his oblivion at last, only to once again be disappointed as the siphon on his energy ended rather abruptly, leaving the sword glowing its deep violet hue, even within the saya as it was. Stymied once more in his attempts to join Rei in their souls' obliteration, Shinji instead heard the bestial, eldritch roar of a berserker Evangelion Unit-01 in the depths of his mind, overtaking and engulfing his every thought, until he could only think of three words. Drawing the sword and holding it parallel to the ground, the edge of the blade facing away from him as his other hand rested on the soft spine of the sword, he spoke them aloud for the first time, and for the second time in Ikari Shinji's existence, the world ended.

" _Descend, Kokoronai Tenshi…"_

* * *

When Aizen Sōsuke heard from his informants of the new student at Shinōreijutsuin and how he had apparently attained Shikai in less than an hour, he very nearly killed them for wasting his time on such obvious untruths. However, Aizen knew his men to be more intelligent than to think him so gullible to believe an impossibility of that magnitude, and so he stayed their summary executions pending verification of their information.

To call what he discovered perplexing would be an understatement bordering on a bald-faced lie. Apparently the new student in question had only been in Soul Society for less than a day, and had possessed enough reiatsu to resist that of the Kenpachi herself, Captain Unohana Yachiru, while in her killing frenzy, to the degree that she decided to sponsor his entry into the academy personally, allowing him to bypass the entry examinations. Needless to say, this behaviour was highly atypical of Captain Unohana, and so the lieutenant of the Fifth Division decided to see this new arrival's mysterious power himself.

And then he arrived at Shinōreijutsuin, only to find a smoking crater where the lecture hall ought to have been.

Aizen's eyebrows lifted behind his square glasses when he beheld the aftermath of the event. Apparently, the information had been based in fact, although he still held significant reservations as to the possibility of the timeframe in which the boy—for indeed, the student could be no older than fifteen years old, by all accounts, a mere child even in human terms—had achieved his Shikai. He sighed; this problem required an immediate solution. He didn't, after all, have the flexibility of being able to let this unknown variable remain an unquantifiable value—once he made captain, then perhaps, but until then, this child, if indeed he was as in tune with his zanpakutō as it seemed, was a major threat so long as he remained unpredictable. Aizen knew in that moment that he would have to investigate this situation further.

It didn't take long for Aizen to find the headmaster of the school, who was also, coincidentally, the captain of the First Division and head of the Gotei 13, Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni.

The old man seemed well past his prime, but Aizen knew that Yamamoto wasn't boasting baselessly when he called himself the most powerful Shinigami to have been born in the past nearly one thousand years. His zanpakutō, Ryūjin Jakka, while basic, was undeniably powerful, and Aizen had yet to figure out a way to escape its searing heat in his crusade to crown a new Soul King.

Yamamoto seemed frail and infirm, but beneath his haori and his shihakushō, the man boasted a crisscrossing network of scars and a powerful physique, and Aizen had seen both the old man and his zanpakutō annihilate a battlefield littered with Quincies who had attained the dangerous new technique known as Vollständig during the Quincy War half a century ago.

Aizen found the old man in the office he used with increasing rarity, letting himself in and bowing low as the leader of the Gotei 13 put down his brush and sighed heavily.

"Good morning, Sōtaichō," Aizen greeted formally.

"Aizen-fukutaichō," the old general replied, his voice grinding like gravel and betraying both his age and his exhaustion. "Am I correct to assume you came here alone, then, as I do not sense Hirako-taichō's reiatsu anywhere in the vicinity?"

Aizen smiled politely and nodded. "Indeed I have."

Yamamoto barked a mirthless chuckle. "And I suppose you're here about the boy and how he is to be dealt with, then?"

"You see a great deal, Sōtaichō." _But not nearly enough, unfortunately for you…_

The old man stood with a show of a struggle, leaning on the cane that Aizen knew to contain the general's sealed zanpakutō. "He is being held down below. Follow me."

Aizen nodded, following the stooped, bearded old samurai as they began their descent into the academy basement. The underground cavern was a place Aizen knew well, for it was a training ground for advanced students to practise their high-level Kidō, of which he had been one. He was reminiscing on the day he learned his favourite Kidō, Hadō No. 90: Kurohitsugi, when he stopped in his tracks.

Aizen was a master of Kidō, beyond the level of any save the most senior captains and improving quickly, though he took great pains to keep his training covert with the help of his own zanpakutō, Kyōka Suigetsu. However, even he could not comprehend how a child, a _child_ of a mere _fifteen years,_ would necessitate the use of more than one high-level Bakudō, and yet here assembled were several members of the Kidō Corps, taking turns reinforcing _eight_ such spiritual bindings, all of whom appeared quite substantially tired.

On the ground, in seiza, was the child in question, looking for all intents and purposes to be deep in jinzen, with his zanpakutō perched upon his lap, radiating smoky tendrils of violet energy.

"The child, if indeed child he is, has continued to break through Kidō after Kidō that we put on to restrain him. It's taken this entire setup to ensure he remains contained," Yamamoto explained. "The child's Shikai appears to be uncontained, uncontrolled, and makes him a danger to himself and to everyone around him. If this goes too much further, we'll have to put the matter before Central 46, and they'll probably vote to seal the child and put him in Muken. It's regrettable, but if Central 46 says it must be done, then it must be done."

Aizen bit back a hasty, angered retort, and instead smiled sadly. "What a waste of potential…"

Aizen walked up to the binding circle where the child sat in jinzen, and then went down into seiza before him, hands folded in his lap, though Kyōka Suigetsu was not far from his grasp. "Hello there. I'm told you keep breaking the bindings laid upon you. May I ask why?"

"...You may," the child replied, his eyes still closed, looking for all the world to be yet still in jinzen.

The Shinigami sighed. "I cannot help you if you are going to be difficult."

The child remained silent.

Aizen stared at the child, expecting an answer for several long minutes, until he sighed again and began to get up and leave.

"...It's because they're uncomfortable…"

Aizen stopped in his tracks and smirked to himself. "Sōtaichō, may I have a few moments with the child? I may be able to ensure that Central 46 need not be involved."

The old man stared at Aizen for a few moments before nodding reluctantly. "Very well. You have one hour. Otherwise, I send for Central 46, and they shall decide the child's fate."

Aizen smiled genially and bowed respectfully. "Of course, Sōtaichō. Would you also please remove the Kidō Corps? I can promise you they won't be necessary."

The old captain nodded again, waving for the Kidō Corps to follow him out. They left in ranks, and Aizen sighed in relief as he once more sat down before the child, now alone and without distractions.

"Now that we're alone, we may speak freely. What is your name?"

"...Ikari Shinji."

 _Kami, Hirako-taichō would have a field day knowing that…_ "And what is the name of your zanpakutō?"

The boy's brow furrowed. "I thought this was called an asauchi?"

"Ordinarily, yes." Aizen sighed. Had nobody thought to instruct this boy, Shinji, in what he would need to know about Soul Society? "An asauchi is an immature zanpakutō, a blank slate onto which Shinigami imprint their zanpakutō spirits. A zanpakutō is the weapon of the Shinigami, an intelligent armament and constant companion. As every person is different, each zanpakutō is unique, a reflection of the soul of their Shinigami."

The boy nodded in understanding. "So, what I did just then when I synchronised with the asauchi, I imprinted my…zanpakutō spirit, then, onto the sword?"

Aizen nodded. "And then you achieved Shikai."

"...Is _that_ what blew up the lecture hall?"

"Yes," Aizen nodded. "When a Shinigami achieves Shikai, which for many is the peak of their power, an enormous quantity of energy is released. Of course, most Shinigami will never know what it is to achieve Shikai, for it is a feat in and of itself. A Shinigami who has achieved Shikai will experience a fivefold increase in power. However, there is a level beyond Shikai, and it is called Bankai. Those who achieve it experience a further tenfold increase in power, but normally, the process of obtaining Bankai requires a decade of training at the very least, and further, less than one in every one thousand Shinigami even has the potential for Bankai, while even fewer ever achieve it. Bankai is also a requirement to take twelve of the thirteen captain positions in the Gotei 13."

"How do you know if I've even achieved Shikai, then?" Shinji asked skeptically.

"Well, what is the name of your zanpakutō?"

"Kokoronai Tenshi."

 _Heartless Angel?_ Aizen thought to himself. _An ominous-sounding name for a zanpakutō if ever there was one…_ "That is how you know. The knowledge of the true name of your zanpakutō is synonymous with the ability to achieve Shikai. You only need to memorise your kaigo to be able to use it at will."

"Kaigo? Like when I said 'descend,' and Kokoronai Tenshi erupted?"

Aizen nodded. "Yes, in that case, it is likely that the command 'descend' is your kaigo. May I see your Shikai, then?"

Shinji immediately closed off. "No, you may not. I will not suffer to cause an episode akin to the one that destroyed the lecture hall."

"You have my thanks, Aizen-fukutaichō," came a familiar voice directly behind him, and Aizen cursed; he had become so engrossed in his conversation with the boy that he had neglected to detect Unohana's reiatsu. "How are you, Ikari-san? I see you have already put the asauchi I gave you to good use."

The boy nodded politely, but his eyes were distant and cautious as they looked upon his sponsor. "Yes, I have. Thank you. And I am well, Unohana-taichō. How do you yourself fare?"

"It is clear that I ought to take my leave," Aizen interjected, standing from seiza and bowing before turning to go. _It seems I shall have to resort to rather more opaque machinations in order to learn the boy's capabilities…_

Luckily for Aizen, it would not be two weeks before an opportunity for him go force Shinji into Shikai presented itself.

* * *

Zaraki hadn't been hard to find. The boy who had been the reason Unohana had left the Eleventh Division to become captain of the Fourth was under a great deal of scrutiny from other members of the Eleventh, who wished to know and possibly defeat the boy, whose "stolen" zanpakutō had allowed him to injure their former captain. Thus, all Aizen needed to do was follow the trail to discover the location of the wild-eyed upstart.

"Who the fuck are you?" the boy, Zaraki, who looked little older than Shinji—though among adolescents, that meant a lot more than it did amongst adults—asked him. They were in an alley, and Zaraki was going through the pockets of the latest batch of Eleventh Division Shinigami who had taken it upon themselves to try and eliminate the teen. Aizen, as always, had come prepared.

"Aizen Sōsuke," he replied, holding up the sack of food—sashimi and various cuts of raw meat—he had brought with him to get the teenager's attention, and tossing it to him. "And I come to you with an offer I think you'd be interested in."

Zaraki caught the bag, smelled it, and made a face. "The fish is fine, but raw meat? The fuck do you think I am, some sort of dog?"

 _The comparison would be quite apt…_ "You cannot expect me to believe you lack a cooking fire."

"Good point," Zaraki considered as he began to shove the pieces of sashimi into his mouth like he hadn't eaten in days—which, knowing this district of North Rukongai, was very likely. "At least you didn't bring any spices. You pansy-ass Shinigami lather your meat in all those salts and spices and sauces that it doesn't even taste like meat anymore."

Aizen smiled, though inwardly, he was thinking, _I know precisely why I'm engaging this child, but why is this a step that I know I have to take?_

 _ **Because you're obsessed with Ikari Shinji and need Zaraki in order to learn more about him?**_

Aizen sighed in his inner world. _I am_ _not_ _obsessed with the child, Kyōka Suigetsu. He is merely an unknown I need quantified._

 _ **Never would have taken you for a shotacon, Sōsuke,**_ Kyōka Suigetsu teased.

Aizen clamped down on that thought and shook his head while his surprisingly childish zanpakutō pouted in the corner of the room full of mirrors in his inner world where she resided. "Good to know."

"If you got something to say, Shinigami, then you better damn well say it," Zaraki said impatiently. "Don't be here wasting my fucking time."

 _The direct approach it is, then…_ Aizen sighed. "Before you, Captain Unohana Yachiru, who now goes by Unohana Retsu, had someone she thought to be amazingly strong, and I thought you might like to test your strength against his."

Aizen had Zaraki's attention immediately. "Who is he?! Where is he?! How can I find him?!"

Aizen suppressed a smirk. _All too easy…_

 _ **Shotacon…**_

Aizen ignored that. "His name is Ikari Shinji. He is a first year student at the Academy in Seireitei. Would you like me to get you in?"

Zaraki grinned wolfishly. "Nah, I got it. You can go now, Shinigami. I got some preparing to do…"

 _ **...Shotacon…**_

Aizen's eye twitched.

* * *

Shinji was in the secondary lecture hall, taking notes as the lecturer droned on and on about the history and laws of Soul Society, which would have been a fascinating topic for Shinji if the professor didn't speak in a manner so similar to that of his old sensei at Tokyo-3 Junior High. To keep himself occupied in the interim, he had Kokoronai Tenshi situated in his lap as he synchronised with the spirit inside in a process Soul Society insisted on calling jinzen. His zanpakutō spirit felt strangely familiar to him, almost…Evangelion-esque. In fact, it was almost exactly the same feeling he got when he performed jinzen, so close to identical to the sensation of delving into his EVA and nearing the absolute borderline that it almost frightened him—or would have, had he the capacity for fear any longer.

His plans to remain inconspicuous were thoroughly dashed by Day Two. Now he had the flexibility to perform jinzen in the middle of the lecture because the entire bench to the left of him—and he sat right against the right wall in order to be considerate—was completely and totally empty. He sighed sadly as he considered this, but continued writing all the same. He dimly remembered a South African proverb that a man on the ground could not fall, so perhaps things would look up for him from now on, though he personally doubted the likeliness of such an event.

The wall at the front of the lecture hall exploded inward, large chunks of sekkiseki blasting the lecturer out the wall on the other side of the room. A boy ran in, perhaps seventeen or eighteen by Shinji's estimate, though in Soul Society, that could range from one hundred to one hundred fifty years, and hopped in amidst the chaos, a massive ōdachi resting on his shoulder, its edge horrendously chipped. The older boy's black hair was wild and unruly, and his green eyes were wide and feral, a wolfish grin spread across his face. " _IKARI SHINJI!_ "

Everyone else in the class pointed directly at Shinji. He sighed. _Come on…_

The wolfish boy with the hairless brow ridge and savage, toothy grin fixed his eyes on Shinji, and, raising his ōdachi high, charged him, tearing through rows of the lecture hall's long tables and benches and cutting at him with such strength that even though Shinji brought Kokoronai Tenshi up in time to parry, he was sent crashing through the back wall of the lecture hall, catapulted through the air as he did his best to dissipate the momentum of his descent as he reached the peak of his arc and began to fall to the ground.

Shinji landed hard, creating a crater on the ground as he hit with a significant amount of impact. As soon as he was up, however, the other boy was upon him, the next slash of his ōdachi sending him sliding back as his feet left torn-up trails in the soil.

"C'MON!" the older boy shouted as he began another charge. "IS THAT ALL YA GOT?!"

Shinji growled, and rage flowed into his body, which began to resonate with his zanpakutō. He almost— _almost_ —brought the sword up to enter Shikai, but thought better of it. He slammed Kokoronai Tenshi into the ground next to him, point-first, and entered a familiar combat stance. He watched the other boy's sword in its cleaving descent, and sidestepped, letting the blow fall to the ground. He countered by pivoting and delivering a half-crescent kick to the feral boy's head. The savage let go of his embedded sword to dodge back, but Shinji merely advanced, not allowing him a moment of respite to take up his sword anew.

The other boy grinned. "So that's how ya wanna do it, huh? And here I thought you Shinigami were too scared to get your robes dirty!"

Shinji didn't respond. Instead, following the primal insistence of his instincts, he pushed off and disappeared, reappearing directly behind the other boy and delivering a kick to his spine that should have broken his back. He was launched forward and plowed a new furrow into the ground with his face until he finally stopped, and then began laughing. "Yes, _that's_ it, Shinigami! Fight to the end, and strike to kill! I'm gonna _enjoy_ this!"

Shinji's eyes widened as he saw the other boy get up, his chest heaving as he laughed, before he once more grabbed his ōdachi and wrenched it out of the ground. Using both hands, the boy charged.

 _Doesn't this kid know how to do anything other than charging his enemy? Or is he holding back?_ Shinji's eyes narrowed. _If that's the case, then I'm going to have to make him take this seriously…_

The slash came down, and Shinji brought his arm up, clenching his teeth against the pain as the ōdachi cut deep into the underlying bone. Grunting in pain, Shinji twisted the wound, opening it further in order to grasp the long blade of the greatsword with his hand, before breaking it off at the hilt with an open-palm strike. The faults in the blade opened up, the chips becoming cracks as the blade shattered.

The other boy's eyes widened as the shards of the blade tinkled to the ground. "That…was fucking _badass!_ "

Shinji cocked an eyebrow, and then launched his injured arm forward and blasted his opponent in the solar plexus. There was a delayed reaction as the shockwave reverberated through his hard-muscled, lean body, blood flying from his mouth, before he flew backwards as if he had been hit by a shotgun blast, crashing into the wall of sekkiseki on the other end of the Hadō training grounds.

The other boy came charging out of the rubble, almost slavering in joy. What was left of his ōdachi blazed to its full length with golden light, as he cried out, " _DRINK, NOZARASHI!_ "

The ōdachi lengthened and thickened into a great war-cleaver, larger than the other boy was, and Shinji, knowing that he could only sacrifice so many limbs before he would have to resort to biting his opponent's legs off, pushed off again, vanishing.

When he reappeared, the other boy was on him again, literally frothing at the mouth and giggling like a mad hyena. Shinji's eyes widened, and he flashed away again, only to have to flash away yet again as the savage seemed to be able to predict him.

" _TOO SLOW, SHINIGAMI!_ " the savage cried in his feral bloodthirst. " _DON'T GIVE ME THAT SHIT! BRING YOUR A-GAME, OR I SWEAR TO FUCK, I'M GONNA KILL YOUR ASS!_ "

 _Time to get serious…_ Shinji's eyes darted over to where Kokoronai Tenshi was seething with deep violet energy, and as the older boy brought Nozarashi down onto where he was, he sidestepped, jumped up, and pushed off of the flat of the war-cleaver, flashing towards his own zanpakutō. With an ominous sense of purpose, Shinji drew his sword from the dirt as a Welsh king of old had once drawn his father's sword from the stone, his whole body seething with dark fulmination and eldritch power. With a deathly calm, he declared, " _Descend—_ "

" _Reduce All Creation to Ash, Ryūjin Jakka!_ "

A ring of white-hot flame encircled the two as Yamamoto stepped onto the field, his powerfully built and ridiculously scarred body on open display as his shihakusho hung open to his waist. In the bearded man's hand was a katana with a violet-wrapped tsuka, a circular tsuba, and a blade made of purest flame.

"This madness ends now!" the old man bellowed mightily. "See what destruction you have wrought?!"

The flames died down, and like that, Shinji's battle-fury evaporated. He looked around as the violet aura dissipated from his body and his sword, and saw that the Hadō field was in ruins, and healers were rushing to and fro in an attempt to stem the tide, members of the Kidō Corps on their knees in exhaustion as their high-level Bakudō crumpled to reishi. Shinji sheathed his zanpakutō and bowed low. "Gomenasai, Yamamoto-sōtaichō."

Yamamoto extinguished his blade by thrusting it into the ground. "I shall forestall punishment, Ikari Shinji, for it has been made clear to me that you were acting in self-defence. But another incident like this, defensive or not, _will_ see you sealed and consigned to Muken, even if I must appeal to Central 46 myself!"

Shinji bowed again. "Hai, Sōtaichō…"

* * *

Aizen was shaking with rage as he beheld what had become of his masterful plan. The fight had gotten so out of hand that the old general felt the need to get involved, and to make matters worse, he had not even been able to observe Ikari's Shikai in action. Though Zaraki's Nozarashi was nice to know about, and he had been close enough to sense a sufficient amount of the massive amount of energy coming off of the sealed zanpakutō to tell that it was an elemental zanpakutō, the fact remained that his plan had failed utterly, and all due to the interference of the old man.

"I will murder that man if it is the end of me…"

 _ **Growling, Sōsuke? That's hardly becoming,**_ Kyōka Suigetsu remarked.

 _Shut. Up._

 _ **Have you considered sitting the boy down and giving him a**_ _ **reason**_ _ **to show you his Shikai of his own free will?**_

Aizen huffed, sending a hand trembling with anger through his deceptively long brown hair. _It seems I shall have to take the risk…_

 _ **Don't worry, Sōsuke,**_ Kyōka Suigetsu replied. _**Something tells me that you risk far less than you think…**_

 _For both our sakes, I hope you're correct…_

With that, Aizen Sōsuke sighed, and at last took his leave.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Shinji looked down at his arm with mild interest as he sat amongst the rest of his fellow students, many of whom kept their distance from him in the wake against the older boy who had later introduced himself as Zaraki, but who now was the only one of his classmates who sat next to him. The boy was slouched in his chair and snoring loudly, and Shinji thought fondly on how much the ryoka reminded him of Suzuhara Tōji before the guilt of his former best friend's paraplegic status slammed into him with the force of a truck. He looked back down at his arm and thought back to how he had wondered why no one commented on the state of his arm, only to then look down and notice that not even a scar was left behind. Everyone involved seemed to think he knew some high-level healing Kidō, but Shinji had done nothing to attempt to remedy the wound, and even then, he had researched the topic only to find that the only handful of Kidō that _could_ have healed his injuries would have taken hours to apply, not the seconds he estimated it to have taken. He was wondering if he had happened to have absorbed some Angelic DNA during his brief stint as God when Aizen Sōsuke entered the room and went to talk to the TA in charge of the class while the professor rested from his wounds. They exchanged words, and Aizen looked up at Shinji, narrow brown meeting wide cobalt blue, before nodding.

Shinji was on his way to meet with Aizen in private before the teaching assistant could request that he do so. Zaraki, who had heretofore been sleeping like a stone, woke up with a graceless snort as Shinji brushed past him lightly. "Hey, Shinji! Where ya going?!"

"To speak to Aizen-fukutaichō, Zaraki-san," Shinji replied coolly, tightening his grip on Kokoronai Tenshi's saya and following Aizen out.

He followed the Fifth Division vice-captain for quite a ways, through the corridors of the Academy and into a reserved conference room. It was not altogether unlike some of the conference rooms Shinji had seen and occupied during his days at NERV, unknowingly working for the secret organisation known as SEELE. Aizen waited for Shinji to choose a seat, and once he did, he sat across from Shinji, surprising the EVA pilot.

"I believe I ought to apologise for that mess with Zaraki," Aizen began, surprising Shinji yet again. He had known that it was Aizen who had sent the wild-eyed boy, but he had never expected the man across from him to assume that Shinji knew of his involvement, let alone apologise for it. Immediately, Shinji's opinion of Aizen Sōsuke skyrocketed.

"You know I knew you were involved?" Shinji asked.

"Ikari-san, I would ask that you not insult my intelligence, and I will do my best to extend you the same courtesy," Aizen sighed. "It will not come easily to me—you surely recognise the kinds of dullards I have to deal with on a daily basis—but I shall at least make the effort."

"...You can call me Shinji…" Shinji ventured.

Aizen smiled warmly. "Very well. In the spirit of quid pro quo, you may address me as Sōsuke."

Shinji smiled shyly in return. This was a new feeling, being respected on some level by someone older than him, Misato notwithstanding, and being addressed as an equal. He found he rather liked it. "Okay, Ai—Sōsuke."

Sōsuke nodded. "Now, as I was saying, I was attempting to get you to release your Shikai because I wished to know what it was, what its capabilities were, and what its weaknesses could be."

In any other circumstance, Shinji would have left at those words, as he could clearly discern what they implied. But Sōsuke's earlier message of mutual respect returned to him, and he forced down his initial impulse to treat him as an enemy, and instead gave him the benefit of the doubt, as Sōsuke had given him. "In case you needed to neutralise me."

To his credit, Sōsuke nodded. "I see you are as perceptive as I gave you credit for. Let us see how far that extends. Why might I need to neutralise you?"

Shinji immediately thought about the danger he could pose to Soul Society, but halted, and for the first time, gave the matter more thought. Aizen Sōsuke was an unknown, but the power of his superior, Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni, and his zanpakutō, Ryūjin Jakka, was not. Further, Yamamoto was the founding captain of the Gotei 13, and as such most assuredly possessed Bankai, amongst myriad capabilities. In many ways, Yamamoto reminded Shinji of Gendō—for he would not do himself the disservice of calling that fiend his father—but his power was undeniable. So why would someone as intelligent as Sōsuke throw himself into a task that was, with his inclusion, beyond overkill? If Shinji could see the massive waste of resources that would be, then surely Sōsuke could, as well.

That left one alternative.

"You're planning to rebel," said Shinji. "You're planning to betray the Sōtaichō and rebel against the Gotei 13 and Soul Society."

Sōsuke smirked. "And with that, you have proven yourself more intelligent by an order of magnitude than every member of the Gotei 13. Out the mouths of babes, indeed."

"Not that I'm against the idea…" Yamamoto's resemblance to Gendō came to Shinji in that moment. "...but why? You have nothing to gain and everything to lose from all of this, from what I can see."

Aizen grew deathly still, and serious as the grave. "The downfall of the Soul King."

Shinji couldn't help it.

He burst out laughing.

"I fail to see how this is a laughing matter," Sōsuke remarked, his brow furrowed as his eye twitched.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, it's just…how unoriginal can you _get?! Deicide?!_ _ **Seriously?!**_ " Shinji sobered quickly, and his voice grew cold. "Aizen-san. Let me tell you a story. A story about a group of old men who thought to fill the holes in their hearts by becoming God. By toppling the throne of Heaven and ascending to His seat in His stead."

And so Shinji told Aizen. He told him everything he knew, which, considering those few hours when he had been omniscient, was quite a bit. He started with the discovery of the Dead Sea Scrolls, and the assembly of very old, very powerful men, and their mutual distrust in their quest for ultimate power and completion. He spoke of the Katsuragi Expedition and Second Impact. He told of his mother and Gendō, and of the organisations called SEELE and GEHIRN, and of the Human Instrumentality Project by way of the creation of the monstrosity known as Evangelion.

And then he spoke of his lifetime. Of Rei I, Rei II, whom he grew to love, and Rei III, who loved him. He spoke of the fortress-city of Tokyo-3, of the technological marvel of the GeoFront, and of the formation of NERV. He spoke of his life growing up but briefly, going into greater detail of the horrific price of the Evangelions, the Angel War, and his, in retrospect, greatest friend and truest comrade, Sōryu Asuka Langley. The fiery Valkyrie who made his blood boil with her passion, but for whom he felt only adolescent lust, and not true love. Of Tabris, the first person to tell him he was worthy of love, as much as he didn't believe him then, and still doubted him now.

And last, he spoke of the final days of his life, and of the Third Impact, and its true purpose: Instrumentality.

When he finished his sordid tale, his eyes dead and his voice flat and monotone, Aizen looked at him with wide eyes and a pallour like that of death.

"So you see, Aizen-san, whatever you _think_ you'll get out of overthrowing the Soul King and taking his throne on high… Take it from somebody who knows. Take it from me. Being God, even for a day? It isn't worth it. Nobody should want that, to see what I've seen, to do what I've done, to lose what I've lost. Nobody should ever want to be me."

There was silence.

"...Fifty years ago," Aizen began slowly and at length, "there were a race of humans known as Quincies. Possessing the power and the blood of the son of the Soul King, Emperor Yhwach, they possessed the ability to deal with Hollows, but while the method of the Shinigami were to purify the corrupt souls of the Hollows through Konsō and sublimation, the Quincies reduced their souls to mere reishi, obliterating them utterly.

"Fifty years ago, the Quincies numbered in the tens of thousands, and the flow of souls was out of balance. More Hollows were being slain than was safe, and so the Gotei 13 was sent into battle to wage war on the Quincies. As the number of Shinigami was only 2,600, you can imagine the war was long and bloody. Many of my comrades died horrible deaths, never to be reborn. I was merely a seated officer at the time, so I saw combat on the front lines of that great folly. But eventually, and at great cost, we prevailed.

"When the Quincy armies surrendered, however, the Soul King did not deign to try the fate of his descendants, his responsibility, and callously left their fate to be judged by the collection of old noblemen known as Central 46, not unlike your SEELE. Embittered and known to be corrupt, the governing body of Rukongai dictated the remaining Quincies to be wiped out. Every last man, woman and child bearing the blood of Yhwach was slaughtered without quarter and removed from the cycle of reincarnation. And in the succeeding years, Central 46 has only expanded and embedded their power into the foundation of Soul Society.

"The Soul King is no god, Shinji. He is divine, make no mistake, and he may think himself a deity, but he is no god. He is but a king, like any other king. And any king who leaves ruling to the corrupt and the power-hungry has no right to sit on his throne on high, judging those below from a place of assumed moral superiority.

"I cannot pretend to know the horrors you have known. I cannot pretend to even begin to understand what you have lost. But be assured, my cause is just. Will you join me, Shinji? Will you cut me down if I become like him, or if I try to do what SEELE did and become a god in truth? And should I fall, will you carry out my cause to the end?"

Shinji's eyes went wide as he realised what Aizen was offering, the trust that was being placed in him implicitly. He quite literally had Aizen's life in his hands, and he did not doubt Yamamoto would not hesitate to immolate him if Shinji told him what Aizen had just said. He knew how much he was being trusted. _Maybe it's time I learn once more what it is to trust in turn…_

Sōsuke offered his hand in friendship, and Shinji smiled. _Maybe it's time I made a friend again…_

Shinji's hand met Aizen's, and they clasped and shook.

"Yes, Sōsuke," Shinji replied. "Let us stay the course, and walk this road together through the darkest gloom and the moonless night."

Sōsuke smiled, and Shinji thought it perhaps the first genuine smile he had seen cross that man's face.

* * *

When Aizen received a hell butterfly in his office in the Fifth Division Barracks, telling all captains and vice-captains to attend a captain's meeting, he was by no means worried about Shinji's loyalty. After hearing the saga of abandonment and betrayal that had been his life before coming to Soul Society, Aizen knew that Shinji wouldn't think to betray him, especially since the older man had given the boy no reason to do so. When he got to the First Division, however, both he and Kyōka Suigetsu were rather alarmed by the topic of discussion, not that either of them showed it even in their reiatsu.

"This meeting is called to order," Yamamoto declared, slamming the butt of the sealed Ryūjin Jakka into the floor, and the chatter among the captains ended swiftly. Even the newly-dubbed Unohana Retsu, captain of the Fourth Division, recognised the old general's supreme authority over the Gotei 13. "We are here to assess the threat posed by the Shinōreijutsuin student by the name of Ikari Shinji."

Unohana's eyes widened, but she then closed them, and Aizen quietly marvelled at her. _My, how you've changed, Unohana Yachiru…_

"Yare, yare," Kyōraku Shunsui sighed as he adjusted his jingasa.

"The one who purportedly achieved Shikai less than one hour after having been given his asauchi?" Shiba Isshin asked, his voice betraying his skepticism.

"The reports have been confirmed," replied Hirako Shinji, Aizen's own captain. "The boy has Shikai, and Unohana-taichō will confirm that she specifically sent the child a blank asauchi that he had never laid eyes on before."

"And less than one hour later, a massive eruption of energy consistent with the acquisition of Shikai appeared on the Twelfth Division's sensors," continued Captain Hikifune Kirio. "Moments afterwards, the lecture hall at the academy was annihilated by that energy surge. We have no choice but to conclude that Ikari Shinji's zanpakutō, Kokoronai Tenshi, was the source of this energy."

"Heartless Angel. Scary," Captain Shiba remarked mockingly.

"Do you doubt the findings of the Twelfth Division?!"

"Enough!" Yamamoto declared, slamming his zanpakutō into the floor with a look of frustration on his face. "I will not have my captains squabbling like children! I myself nearly bore witness to the boy's Shikai and the destructive power it might have unleashed. Like it or not, the child is a problem that must be dealt with one way or another. I will not allow this upstart ryoka bring ruin to Soul Society."

Aizen could restrain himself no longer. "Then perhaps we ought to _train_ him to use that power of his, such that he can control it without destroying half a district whenever he enters Shikai."

Everyone looked at the normally soft-spoken vice-captain in abject surprise, but Yamamoto recovered first, shaking his aged head firmly. "Out of the question! I will not have him laying waste to yet more of the Seireitei!"

"I was not suggesting that," Aizen replied calmly. "I was suggesting personal attention be paid to his education. One-on-one, as it were."

"None of the captains have the time to discipline a whelp too young to shave," the old man objected, waving his hand dismissively.

"Sōtaichō, I was volunteering myself for the position," Aizen countered. "Unlike Hirako-taichō, I _do_ have the time, and graduated top of my class. I should think myself qualified to see that the boy learns to control his powers."

Yamamoto thought for a pregnant moment, visibly weighing the costs and the benefits of approving of Aizen's suggestion, but Aizen already knew the outcome. He had planned for this.

"Very well," he replied. "But Ikari Shinji is your responsibility! Any destruction he causes from this moment forth is on your head, Aizen-fukutaichō!"

Aizen bowed. "As you say, Sōtaichō."

"Dismissed!"

* * *

Aizen's eye twitched as he walked, Shinji following two steps behind him. Unlike others his age or younger, he refrained from the kinds of consistent questions that could drive a chaperone mad, but that resulted in a tension-filled silence as they walked through the tall grass and swaying trees that existed beyond the outskirts of Rukongai, far from the badlands that ranged far afield of the mountains beyond the forests with the yawning trees where Shinji said he had entered Soul Society.

Finally, Shinji spoke.

"Is there something wrong, Sōsuke? You seem troubled."

 _ **Well, you wanted the kid to talk…**_

 _Shut. Up._

"Is your zanpakutō bothering you?"

Aizen whirled around, and both he and Kyōka Suigetsu cried, " _ **What?!**_ "

Shinji didn't flinch. "Well, I see you reacting as if you're talking to someone, and no one else is here, and you obviously weren't talking to me just then… Plus, I know that some Shinigami can talk to their zanpakutō, and your face reminds me of how I felt whenever Katsuragi-shōsa made fun of me."

Aizen nodded, but Kyōka Suigetsu shivered. _**Damn… That kid's probably going to wind up breaking Misato's heart referring to her so formally… Remind me to remind you never to let you get to the point where he genuinely refers to you by rank.**_

 _Noted,_ Aizen replied as they broke through the trees into a clearing that sheltered a meadow. "Lovely. This will do quite nicely. Shinji, stand over there. I'm going to be teaching you the arts of the Shinigami from now on, and unlike the dullards in Shinōreijutsuin, I will teach you to reach your full potential, and never penalise you for your abilities. You have earned my respect and I have given you my trust, and given the opportunity, you have not disappointed. I suppose that helping you achieve proficiency is the least I can do given that."

Shinji nodded. "I suppose I suspected it might be something like that, but I did not wish to assume. What am I to learn first? Kidō? Shunpō?"

"Zanjutsu."

* * *

Immediately, Shinji knew what was to ensue, but in the short gap that existed between realisation and reaction, Sōsuke was gone. Time stood still. Shinji knew he had mere tenths of a second before he would strike, so as his instincts screamed at him, he obeyed, pushing off and flashing forward, desperate to get anywhere besides where he was. He lost some hair as Sōsuke's zanpakutō sliced through his previous location, but he managed to escape the majority of it as time resumed its normal pace.

Shinji's latest attempt to replicate shunpō was imperfect, and he stumbled a bit as he landed. Sōsuke stood there, his zanpakutō resting on his shoulder, and Shinji shifted into the stance he used when fighting in his Evangelion, drawing Kokoronai Tenshi and taking a stance copied from his brief flirtation with kendō between Angel attacks. He took a deep breath as Sōsuke then began to speak.

"Very good. You have done what many seated officers fail to learn about dealing with a more skilled practitioner of Hohō," the older man said appreciatively. "But I wonder…"

Sōsuke vanished.

"...How long can you survive without your Shikai?"

Shinji's eyes widened, and he flashed away, only to have Sōsuke follow him. He flashed away again, but the vice-captain easily kept pace. Once more, he tried to escape, and once more, there he was, right behind him, almost playing with him, it seemed. Like some strange, twisted game of cat and mouse. One last time, Shinji flashed away, and then swung Kokoronai Tenshi in an arc around him, intending to catch Sōsuke when Sōsuke appeared behind him, or to the side of him, or wherever, but in that instant, when he took a vicious one-handed swing, he didn't see the older man anywhere. He looked back and forth, but saw Sōsuke nowhere, not even where he had flashed from.

And then he heard something that made his blood run cold.

"Hadō No. 90: Kurohitsugi."

A black coffin formed around Shinji, and he felt the gravity within pressing down on him in an attempt to crush and injure him. Shinji knew no Kidō, being too early in his education for him to start learning it, but he felt some source of energy welling up in him all the same. It was strange and familiar, not at all unlike…

Shinji's eyes went wide, and a broad, wolfish grin split his face.

* * *

Aizen watched as his Kidō dissipated, a smirk on his face as he expected to see Shinji on his knees. A captain-class Shinigami would be able to shrug off a Kidō of that strength, since he had used the Hadō at only one-sixth of its maximum chanted power, but an untrained student of Shinōreijutsuin would have likely have been injured by it, even if only minorly. But what he saw was far different.

Shinji stood, undisturbed and involiate beneath the gravitonic weight that could bend light and even time itself. Around him, there flickered a field of energy made up of interlocking transparent violet octagons. It wasn't as though Kurohitsugi had had no effect, for the field was crushed into the ground, but Aizen knew that he had succeeded in his goal as he saw Shinji radiate with viscous waves of dark violet energy.

The energy field dissipated, and Shinji brought his zanpakutō up and in front of him, parallel to the ground. He opened his eyes, and they flared purple as he braced his hand against the spine of his sword; when he spoke, his voice reverberated throughout the clearing.

" _Descend, Kokoronai Tenshi…"_

More dark energy, very much akin to that of a fully-chanted Kurohitsugi, radiated from him in waves, ripping up the ground as though lightning had struck. And indeed, the energy became turbulent and began to fulminate, before a moment of complete silence, and then an eruption of a concussive wave of sound, blasting Aizen from his perch in the sky, and then drawing him in as if in a vacuum, a void.

Shinji's form was concealed by a cloud of dust, thick and obfuscating, the debris from the scorched grass and the ruined earth kicked into the air with a column of energy that felt far different than reiatsu. It felt… It felt _Hollow._

And suddenly, Aizen Sōsuke was grateful beyond words that they were beyond sensing range of Soul Society and the Twelfth Division.

A blade that shined silver like the moon clove through the smoke and dust, and immediately the cloud was dispelled in its entirety. In Shinji's hand, then, was no longer a katana that, at two and a half shaku, was merely longer than normal. No, this was an ōdachi, just under six shaku in length. The tsuka was black same wrapped in purple silken ribbon, only half again as long as the katana tsuka had been, and the tsuba was burnished bronze in the shape of a blooming sakura, the tsuka gashira capped with the same metal that gleamed in the sun.

"An elaborate Shikai, if ever I've seen one," Aizen mused.

Shinji smirked, chuckling and shaking his head. "You've seen nothing as of yet."

He then placed both hands on the tsuka before slashing diagonally, sending a compressed wave of energy from the blade through the air towards Aizen. Eyes widening, Aizen vanished and landed out of the path of the swing. "An ability akin to Shiba-taichō's Getsuga Tenshō… Interesting…"

Shinji cocked an eyebrow. "Ability? Hardly. _This_ is its ability."

He flashed away, but it was slower, more lethargic, and Aizen cocked an eyebrow. If his Shikai made him _slower,_ then that could be a problem. But his eyes widened in realisation. _He isn't being slowed down—he's_ _ **intentionally**_ _slowing down so that he can make sure I can see it!_

Suddenly, Kokoronai Tenshi glowing violet and seeming to form raven feathers as a way to dispose of the excess energy, Shinji dashed past Aizen, and he brought Kyōka Suigetsu up to parry—only to overcompensate as his zanpakutō connected with nothing but air. _That's impossible! My timing was perfect! I should have been able to stop him cold!_

Then a stinging pain took Aizen across the chest, and he looked down, seeing that he had been opened up from hip to shoulder. Blood gushed from the wound, but regardless of that, it was still shallow, nothing a basic healing Kidō wouldn't fix.

Shinji turned around. "Ah. Good. That was the first time I'd done that, and I was afraid I wouldn't know to hold back enough. So, what do you think?"

Aizen was at a loss for words, but then it hit him.

"Your zanpakutō. Is it, perchance, a dark-elemental type with the ability to cut the fabric of spacetime?" Aizen asked casually, but inwardly, he was grinning like a madman. An ability like this, once honed… It could change everything.

Shinji nodded. "Not just that, though. Please, stay still. Kokoronai Tenshi only just taught me this one, and if you move…I can't guarantee your safety."

Aizen nodded, making certain that he was perfectly still, and trusting that Shinji wasn't lying to him—after all, trust had to flow both ways in order for the rebellion to work—and watched as Shinji dashed past him once more, seeming not to have done anything. When he was behind Aizen after seemingly having concluded his demonstration, though, the boy muttered one word: "Bōkyaku."

Aizen's clothes tore at nine specific places—no, not tore; rather, were shredded. All nine striking points taught to students of kenjutsu from before the Meiji were attacked with what seemed to be a delayed reaction. His eyes widened as he realised that if Shinji had miscalculated, absent any precautions or flaring of his reiatsu…were he caught by surprise by the attack, it might well have killed him.

"That's quite the surprising little technique you have there, Shinji," Aizen remarked with a wry smirk. "I take it you learned that while in jinzen?"

Shinji nodded. "But I can't help but feel as though I'm merely scratching the surface of what Kokoronai Tenshi can do."

Aizen chuckled, shaking his head. "Will wonders never cease? That means that you're closer to achieving Bankai than you might think."

Shinji nodded in comprehension, taking a battle stance and holding his zanpakutō with both hands. "Then we'd best get to work."

Aizen smiled and nodded. "Indeed."

* * *

When Shinji returned to the dormitories later that evening, exhausted and still a bit shocked by his ability to unfold an Absolute Terror Field, the last thing he expected to find was Zaraki in his room, Nozarashi at his side and his arms crossed over his rapidly expanding chest, looking none too happy with the boy the feral blood knight considered his friend. The former Third Child sighed and groaned, as he was far too tired to deal with Zaraki at the moment, but it did not seem as though Zaraki was willing to let the issue to rest.

"Ikari…" Zaraki began, and had Shinji the capacity for fear any longer, he would have had no compunctions about calling his tone 'dangerous'. "Were you out there all day getting stronger _without_ me?"

"If you _must_ know," Shinji said in an exasperated tone, "Aizen-fukutaichō was teaching me zanjutsu out in the forest so that I wouldn't end up destroying yet another lecture hall with my Shikai, or in a duel with a _very_ persistent friend of mine who _won't leave well enough alone._ "

"What am I supposed to do, then, Ikari?" Zaraki complained. "Everyone at the Academy is so weak! It's _so boring_ when you're not there!"

And suddenly, realisation dawned on Shinji. He now knew the measure of his friend. _Oh, Kami-sama, no…_

He was Zaraki's only friend.

He sighed. "Look, what do you want from me, Zaraki? I'm only just learning how to control my Shinigami abilities, and Sō… _Aizen-fukutaichō_ is the only one who's willing to teach me how to use them. It's one on one, and moreover, it's incredibly dangerous…"

Zaraki's eyes went wide, causing Shinji to trail off. "Almost using his given name? I had no idea you and Aizen were so close."

Shinji's own eyes widened. _Shit shit shit shit shit…_

"You're planning something big, aren't you? Like overthrowing Soul Society?"

Shinji choked and went pale as his…heart… Wait, did he even _have_ a heart anymore? It occurred to him just then that he hadn't heard it beat once since before Third Impact. Did Shinigami even _have_ heartbeats? Questions for another time. He'd ask Sōsuke later. "H…how?!"

Zaraki's eyes went even wider than Shinji's own and then he smiled broadly. "I was _joking,_ Ikari… But you're serious about this, aren't ya? I guess it makes sense, though." "

"Sense?!" Shinji cried. "In what way does that even come close to making sense?!"

Zaraki's smile lengthened into a manic, almost bestial grin. "Well for one thing, your killing intent flared when I talked about Aizen. Not to mention, someone as scheming as he is being content as a vice-captain? It just doesn't make sense. Makes my nose itch. And the nose knows, isn't that the saying you people love to throw around so much? Ikari, just because I'm me doesn't mean I'm an idiot. In fact, I probably see more than most people on the grounds that people don't bother trying to hide things from me. I'm not a moron, Ikari. Please don't treat me like one."

Shinji sighed. "What do you want, Zaraki?"

Zaraki grinned even more ferally. "I want in."

Shinji blinked. "...What?"

"I want in on your rebellion!" Zaraki cried. "Think of how many strong guys we'll get to fight! Every captain and vice-captain in Soul Society! Including Unohana! I wanna get stronger with you guys, and I want to fight with you! Nozarashi thirsts, and I intend for it to drink its fill…"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Aizen Sōsuke was in seiza before his desk in his relatively small quarters in the Fifth Division, doing calligraphy so as to relax before bed, Kyōka Suigetsu at his side—for no samurai should ever be without their sword—when his room's shōji slammed open, Shinji standing in the frame. Since achieving his Shikai and fighting with it that morning, his hair seemed to have grown quite a bit, his brown locks, darker than Aizen's, hanging down the back of his neck. Aizen kept himself from thinking of how almost effeminate the boy was so as to escape Kyōka Suigetsu's myriad works of mischief and mockery, and instead focused on Shinji himself.

 _ **Shotacon…**_

Ignoring his zanpakutō for a moment, who was having entirely too much fun mocking him, Aizen greeted, "It is good to see you, Shinji, though I thought we had agreed not to meet again until tomorrow."

"I'm sorry, Sōsuke, but it couldn't wait," Shinji panted, bowing hurriedly before moving into Aizen's quarters. "Zaraki figured us out, and wants to join us."

"Yo, Aizen. It's been a while," came the voice of Zaraki as he walked into the room as well, his teeth crunching into an apple held in his hand as his sealed zanpakutō, Nozarashi, no longer chipped with the blade more or less as good as new, rested on his shoulder in his other hand. "Figured you might need some help with this thing of yours."

Containing himself, Aizen cocked a brow before saying, "At least have the discretion to close the shōji behind you before you start speaking of sensitive information. I don't want to have to cast my Bakudō on open air."

"Yeah, yeah, just quit your bitchin'," Zaraki replied, sliding the shōji shut.

 _ **I like him.**_

 _No, you do not._

"Bakudo No. 53: Mubyōshi," Aizen intoned, and a green barrier slammed into place just behind the shōji, making it impossible for those outside to hear what was going on inside. He supposed he could have just used Kyōka Suigetsu, but he didn't want to expose Shinji to it yet, if at all.

 _ **How sweet…**_

 _Shut. Up._

"So, basically, I hear you guys are looking to take down the Gotei 13. In order to do that, you both need to wind up captain-class, and probably captains yourselves. Am I right?" Zaraki postulated.

Aizen nodded. "Indeed you are… What is your point?"

Zaraki grinned. "Then I know at least how Shinji can become a captain. It was a plan I was workin' on myself in my spare time."  
"Oh?" Aizen asked, raising an eyebrow. "And what might that be?"

Zaraki's grin widened. "He needs to take on the title of Kenpachi!"

Aizen's mind stalled for a moment. "That's…actually rather ingenious."

 _ **Seriously, how did you not think of that? Someone's been spending a little too much time perving out on little Shinji-kun~ Hentai!**_

 _Shut! Up!_

"I'm lost. What is the title of Kenpachi, why do I need it, and how do I get it?" Shinji asked, completely nonplussed.

"The title of Kenpachi is hereditary. Originally held by Unohana, it's given to the greatest swordsman in all of Soul Society. Whoever holds it is entitled to be the captain of the Eleventh Division—"

"Unohana-taichō's old division…" Shinji breathed. "Do you think I have what it takes to defeat the current Kenpachi?"

"Sure you do, Ikari!" cried Zaraki, a savage glee in his eyes. "You're crazy strong! You stood up to Nozarashi with your _bare hands!_ "

Shinji smiled, but then turned to Aizen, a searching look in his eyes. "Sōsuke?"

Aizen stopped, and his breathing halted at the look of complete trust in Shinji's innocent gaze, devoid of guile.

 _ **He's soooo cute! I could just eat him up!**_

 _How can a pair of eyes be so diversely emotive?_ Aizen wondered to himself.

Kyōka Suigetsu gasped. _**You've got a crush on Shinji-kun, don't you?! Like, for real! My little Sōsuke, all grown up! They really do grow up so fast!**_

Realising that the gravity of the situation could either make or break his relationship with Shinji, Aizen mastered himself, and put on the smirk that would eventually become his trademark. "That you have the _potential_ is undeniable. Without your Shikai, you were equivalent in strength to a vice-captain-class Shinigami. However, the difference in sheer power between a vice-captain and a captain is monumental and cannot be ignored. No, Shinji, as you are now, you could not become the Kenpachi. Which is why you are going to challenge the captain of the Eleventh Division in no less than ten years. What you are going to achieve…

"...Is called _Bankai._ "

* * *

The next day, Shinji and Sōsuke walked to the clearing, with Zaraki following behind, whistling a merry tune while the other two were the very picture of silent professionalism. When they reached the clearing, Aizen continued on, with the other two following behind. Shinji, perplexed, kept himself from asking any questions as they continued to walk, but just when his curiosity was about to get the better of him, he heard the sound of rushing water ahead, and conjectured what was going to happen.

Not long after that, they came to a waterfall that fed into a river that went its way through the forest, and beneath that waterfall was a wide, flat rock, presumably worn away by the water's erosion over a long period of time—possibly millions of years, if what Shinōreijutsuin taught was in any way accurate, possibly even as old as the death of the First Primordial Race, though that was a part of Earth's history that Shinji really, _really_ didn't want to think too hard about. Sōsuke pointed to the rock with his zanpakutō, and said, "Go through the waterfall. Behind it is a cave that has been used for Bankai training for centuries. It's where Nimaiya Ōetsu forged the first Asauchi, and as such, the area is saturated with reishi. This will make it easier for you to manifest the spirit of your zanpakutō, which is the first step of Bankai training. Once that is done, your zanpakutō spirit will begin to teach you how to achieve Bankai. It will use its own methods, and I cannot predict what it will do. Yours is the first dark elemental-type zanpakutō in Soul Society history, so I could not even begin to guess what kind of trials you will undergo for the sake of the power that comes with Bankai."

Shinji nodded, and proceeded through the waterfall, only to find a cave that seemed far bigger inside than it did on the outside. He turned around, shooting Sōsuke a questioning look, but Sōsuke merely smirked. "Now, Zaraki."

Zaraki grinned. " _Drink, Nozarashi!_ "

The ōdachi once more became the massive cleaver from before as Zaraki charged Shinji. Panicked, he drew his zanpakutō and called, " _Descend, Kokoronai Tenshi!_ "

Kokoronai Tenshi clashed against Nozarashi and held, though sparks flew as the edges did their level best to bite deep into each other. Shinji had a moment to realise that he had parried incorrectly, before he was thrown back by Zaraki's superior strength and focus. He flew back, and tumbled as he hit the ground, but before he could get his proper footing, his student-type shihakushō covered in dirt that clung to the water on the fabric, Zaraki was upon him.

Nozarashi swung through the air with demonic speed and force, and it was all Shinji could do to parry each blow as it came. He had no time to think, reacting to the relentless onslaught with pure instinct and reflexes honed by months of fighting in an EVA. Finally, he managed to get an opening, and with an A.T. Field-enhanced strike, he kicked Zaraki across the battlefield.

Zaraki skidded to a stop in the dirt, his waraji digging into the cave floor. He looked up with a feral gleam, and charged again, leaping and bringing down his blade. Nozarashi bit deep into Kokoronai Tenshi's edge, and sparks flew as the chip became a crack in the blade. Wrenching Nozarashi out of its purchase, Zaraki began to swing with wild, savage force and reckless abandon. Shinji did his best to dodge, but more than once he was forced to parry, and with each parry, the crack in the blade of Kokoronai Tenshi grew. Even so, Shinji decided to forgo defence, and lifted his sword high above his head, prepared to cleave down into Zaraki's shoulder, but it was not to be.

"Bakudō No. 61: Rikujōkōrō."

Rods of light slammed into Shinji, and he could no longer move. He struggled, but he couldn't break the high-level Kidō, and while he struggled, Zaraki continued to charge, and with a single cleaving strike, he sheared Kokoronai Tenshi's long blade in two.

" _NO!_ " Shinji shouted, and the eruption of energy from him as he flared his A.T. Field shattered the Bakudō that held him stationary. Refusing to abandon his zanpakutō, Shinji reversed his grip and punched Zaraki in the solar plexus with a reinforced fist. As Zaraki flew away, Shinji took a pause to catch his breath and reassure himself of his footing. This turned out to be a very bad idea.

"Seeping crest of turbidity. Arrogant vessel of lunacy! Boil forth and deny! Grow numb and flicker! Disrupt sleep! Crawling queen of iron! Eternally self-destructing doll of mud! Unite! Repulse! Fill with soil and know your own powerlessness! Hadō No. 90: Kurohitsugi!"

Sōsuke's Kidō slammed into Shinji like a truck, and he instinctively unfolded his A.T. Field to stop it, but found that he couldn't. The gravity crushing in on him as the black coffin sealed itself shut was simply too great for him to resist, and it was all he could do to keep from being crushed under the sheer weight of it. He could not see, or hear, or smell… The pressure was simply too great. He felt blood begin to pour from his eyes, his nose and his ears as it intensified, forcing him onto his knees, and then onto all fours.

 _The dark is closing in… Just like that time… Just like… Just like…_

 _...Leliel…_

He remembered.

He remembered the fear, the helplessness, the hopelessness as his mind was torn apart, as his very self was vivisected and examined by an alien mind of incomprehensible vastness and impossible childishness.

He remembered the LCL becoming thicker and clotting and coagulating as the electricity that kept it breathable ran out.

He remembered the darkness, the infinite darkness…

Knowing neither life nor death…

He knew…

True.

Despair.

And just like that time, _something_ responded.

* * *

"You sure he's okay in there?" asked Zaraki, seeming uncharacteristically nervous for one possessing his level of battle fervour. "It's been a while…"

"It's been fifteen seconds," said Aizen. "It may not look like it, but he won't be crushed until after the time expires on the manifestation. Unlike a captain, I have a limited amount of reiryoku I was able to expend on that Kidō, so it has a limited amount of time it can remain in one piece before disintegrating into reishi. I—"

Aizen didn't have time to finish his thought before his Kidō shattered. But that wasn't even the alarming thing. What was alarming was the deafening, blood-curdling Hollow howl that shattered it. He drew Kyōka Suigetsu, ready to use it, and Zaraki hefted Nozarashi into a battle-ready stance, but what crashed through the miasma of black reishi was a black, violet and gold monstrosity. What emerged was long and lean, built for speed, its feet humanoid but for the talons that adorned it, its hands clawed, its arms and legs seemingly too long for its body. Its shoulders bore pauldrons that looked more like pylons, and its face bore a full Hollow mask, one that looked incredibly similar to an oni with a prominent horn coming from its forehead. Its jaws were lined with serrated teeth, and its eyes blazed scarlet from within its mask, while a prominent Hollow hole yawned in the centre of its torso. Purely and simply, it was a monster.

It roared to the roof of the cavern, and the force that exuded from it was crushing, pulverising. It forced both Zaraki and Aizen to their knees before both forced their reiatsu to climb to oppose it, and even then, it was an effort to remain standing.

Recklessly, the bestial creature charged, its feet clawing up the ground as it sprinted with long, bounding strides towards them, and Zaraki let loose a battle-cry, striking down with Nozarashi, only for the massive Shikai to be stopped cold by the creature's unusually tough hierro. Zaraki had exactly an instant to realise what had happened before the Hollow punched him with enough force to send his eyes wide and make him cough up blood, before sending him shooting into the wall of the cavern.

" _SŌ…SUKE…_ "

Aizen's heart went still. The Hollow… The Hollow had just spoken, and called him by his given name. What…?

" _SŌ…SUKE…_ "

His eyes went wide. "S-Shinji?!"

" _SŌSUKE!_ " The Hollow lifted its—no, _his_ hand, and began to charge a cero in his palm. It was violet, but was fringed with scarlet energy. _Shinji's_ energy. " _ **SŌSUKE!**_ "

"BAKUDŌ NO. 81: DANKŪ!"

The cero fired.

Aizen's eyes widened as he dove out of the way, and the blast of energy annihilated his Bakudō in one blow. He rolled back to his feet

 _Impossible!_ he thought. _That Bakudō should have been able to block a Level 89 Hadō! Unless… Is that cero so much stronger than a high-level Hadō that it was able to so easily do away with such a powerful shield?! Ikari Shinji, what has become of you?_

" _ **SŌSUKE!**_ "

Aizen immediately used shunpō and dodged just as another blast of energy caused an immense explosion where he had been, but even as he landed, the delayed shockwave sent him to the ground in a heap. He tried to get up, but yet another cero was being charged and aimed at him. _I don't have the reiryoku to create another shield. This is the end. Shinji…_

He closed his eyes and braced himself, but the end didn't come. Instead, Zaraki dashed in front of him, using Nozarashi's wide blade to block the cero, even as he lost ground against the seemingly endless onslaught.

 _I thought that I knew what I needed to do,_ thought Aizen. _I believed I knew the full potential of hollowfication—but if this is the unimaginable power at the disposal of a higher-level Hollow, maybe even a Vasto Lorde by the look of him, then I need to do more research. Regardless…I need to end this, and I need to end this now, or else we_ _ **will not**_ _survive this. Shinji's Hollow power is simply far too great!_

"Limit of the thousands hands, respectful hands, unable to touch the darkness. Shooting hands unable to reflect the blue sky. The road that basks in light, the wind that ignited the embers, time that gathers when both are together, there is no need to be hesitant, obey my orders. Light bullets, eight bodies, nine items, book of heaven, diseased treasure, great wheel, grey fortress tower. Aim far away, scatter brightly and cleanly when fired. Hadō No. 91: Senjū Kōten Taihō!"

Pinkish-purple balls of energy, ten in number, began to gather and solidify as Aizen intoned the spell, and then he finally released it in a devastating barrage that created a pink cross shaped explosion that rocked the cave and shook loose dirt and rock from the ceiling high above. When the dust cleared, what must have been Shinji's A.T. Field, from how he had described it the day before, had shielded him from all the damage of Aizen's Hadō, and his hierro was without so much as a scratch. He howled, and his A.T. Field dispersed as he disappeared, and then reappeared in front of Zaraki with a burst of sound— _Sonido_. He viciously and casually backhanded Zaraki out of the way, shooting him through the air and out of the cavern through the rock wall, and then brought Aizen up in his grip by his shihakushō, charging a cero in his other hand and bringing the ball of energy up to his face, ready to blast his head clean off.

Aizen knew it was the end, and so he brought his hand up to feel the texture of the hierro on his face. But this caused an immediate reaction from Shinji, whose mask began to crack where Aizen touched him.

Aizen's eyes went wide as he saw the solidified reishi begin to flake off from where the mask cracked. The crack spread throughout the helmet, and then like glass, the whole thing shattered and fell to the ground in chunks, before dissolving as each shard touched the ground. And beneath it was Shinji, his hair having grown even longer than before, tears of blood running down his cheeks. Aizen snapped forward, clutching the boy in his grasp, just as Shinji reached out to him and lost his footing, his hierro disintegrating further by the moment.

"Sōsuke…" he whispered. "W…why…?"

"I'm sorry, Shinji," Aizen replied. "I'm sorry…"

Zaraki climbed back in with the intent to make a wisecrack, but one look at the scene told him that it wasn't the time. Solemnly, he sealed his sword, and left to retrieve the Fourth Division healers.

* * *

 _Shinji opened his eyes and air filled his lungs, but it was choked with ash and caused him to cough and gasp as he bolted upright, his chest heaving. He looked around and saw the Black Moon in the air, eclipsing the red sun such that the sun appeared black, and when he looked down, he saw he was on a beach, on the shores of the sea of LCL. He turned away from it, and saw that behind him was an endless expanse, a desert of ash, with swords of all kinds, all shapes and sizes impaled into the ground. The ashen winds howled, and the shadows of the swords seemed to move, as though they were the souls of those damned by his selfishness in the event of Third Impact. And yet, somehow he felt at home in a way that he never had before. In a way, he felt as though this wasteland, this dusty, ash-laden hellscape, was where he belonged—and not even in a self-deprecating way, either. "What is this…? Is this my inner world, then? How? I'm not in jinzen, and this is the first time I've ever even been in here. What…?"_

" _Well, Shinji, you're here at last. And I feared you might never show," said a hauntingly familiar voice from behind him._

 _Wide-eyed and ever so slightly horrified, Shinji turned to regard the brunette, green-eyed form of his mother, Ikari Yui. "M-Mother?!"_

 _Yui smiled kindly. "Yes, Shinji, but not for long. Even now my presence is fading, for no human is immortal, and even eternity must someday end—contrary to popular belief. I am here to speak for one who cannot, one whose companionship was all I had during the eleven years I spent waiting for you to be allowed to return to me, my son. She's been waiting for you for quite some time, now."_

" _Who?" Shinji asked, curious._

 _Yui nodded behind him. "Her."_

 _A familiar howl split the air—the howl of a berserk Evangelion._

 _Shinji whipped around to the wasteland and saw the silhouette of EVA-01 walking towards him from the hazy horizon, but when he looked back to his mother, he saw nothing but the red ocean._

" _ **SHIN…JI…**_ _"_

 _Shinji turned around, and, thinking to himself, 'I mustn't run away,' he took the battle-stance he had learned from his hakuda classes, and readied himself to meet the Hollow Unit One._

 _Taking a track start, the human-sized EVA, from what he could gather, began to sprint at him, its too-long arms ready to maul him if he faltered. And so he didn't. He neither dodged nor flinched, but instead, he shrugged off the upper half of his shihakusho, baring his lean, wiry-muscled body to the sweltering black sun, and prepared to execute one of the basic hakuda forms he had learned in the past month._

 _The EVA didn't relent, the Hollow tearing up the landscape as it rushed him head on, but when it came into range, Shinji needed no litany, nor any kind of battle-cry save one word:_

" _Sōkotsu."_

 _The EVA's armour, replicated in pure reishi as hierro, shattered with the force of Shinji's powerful double-fisted blow, and as its hierro cracked and flaked and tore itself away from the body underneath, what revealed itself was something that made Shinji's eyes go wide._

 _Beneath the mask was a girl, possessed of an unspeakably alien beauty. Her eyes were closed, but her hair was long and raven-black, her naked body long and lean, yet possessing curves that were akin to what Shinji remembered Misato looked like in her college days. Her lips were a rosy pink, her skin pale, and her eyelids lifted slowly before snapping fully open, pinning him in place with a set of blood-red eyes so similar to Rei's that it stopped him cold._

 _The girl looked down at herself, and said aloud, "I was wondering what I would look like under that horrid armour. I should have guessed it would have resembled that Katsuragi woman. Either way, it is good to finally meet you, Shinji-kun."_

" _It's…nice to meet you as well," replied Shinji hesitantly. "But…who exactly are you?"_

 _She rolled her eyes impatiently, reminding him so much of Asuka that he wasn't even able to be surprised when she whispered Asuka's favourite two words to use in reference to him. "You really can't tell? How cruel and inconsiderate of you to forget my name so out of hand when I told it to you so early on in our working relationship."_

 _Shinji understood. "You're…Kokoronai Tenshi, aren't you?"_

 _She smirked in a way that reminded Shinji of Sōsuke. "As Aizen-sama said, 'Out the mouths of babes indeed.' A distressingly Christian proverb, but accurate all the same."_

" _Then why the hierro at the beginning?"_

 _She merely stared at him incredulously before he understood._

" _You were also the spirit inside of the EVA, weren't you? The presence that responded whenever the Evangelion went berserk."_

" _Got it in one. Really, Shinji, it doesn't bode well for us for you to spend our first official meeting asking me questions you already know the answers to."_

 _Shinji smirked. "Fair enough."_

 _Kokoronai Tenshi clapped her hands together, and the reishi from before swirled and fused into a black outfit—her tabi, hakama and haori were all that same colour, and only the white linen bandages she had wrapped around her breasts to preserve her modesty, her blood-red sash, and her straw-coloured traditional waraji broke that colour scheme. She bound her hair up in a high ponytail, though long bangs of hair still fell into her face, and when all was put together, she looked like a delinquent. A gorgeous delinquent, but a delinquent all the same. "Now then. Bankai training."_

" _I thought you already gave me my Bankai," Shinji replied._

 _She nodded. "I did. Now I'm going to teach you how to use it, if you can prove you're worthy of my instruction. I don't take on charity cases, after all. I'm not going to be able to carry you. You'll have to pull your weight, too. This isn't a horse-and-rider scenario. What we're building here, the nature of our Bankai, is the partnership, the bond that must exist between the two of us, as it existed during the Angel Wars, as it must always exist. Only if you can defeat me will I impart to you the knowledge of how to control your Bankai, a knowledge inexorably linked to its name."_

 _Shinji nodded. It was a simple enough premise. "What is the nature of your test, then?"_

 _She nodded to the field of swords. "Each sword is a weakness of yours, a ceiling that must be shattered, a limit that must be broken if you are to grow. Only one of them is strength, the true strength possessed by those who are truly invincible. Find your strength, Shinji, and you will have what it takes to defeat me. Fail, and you will never be able to control your Bankai."_

 _Shinji nodded. "I accept your challenge."_

 _She smirked, materialising her Shikai in her grasp and holding it in a two-handed kendo grip. "As if you ever had a choice."_

 _Shinji sprinted forward and yanked a flamberge out of the ground, swinging it with both hands. Kokoronai Tenshi merely lifted her blade, and the flamberge shattered as it made contact. Accounting for this, he instinctively planted his feet on the ground, and then popped out of existence to leap into the air and land away, dragging an arming sword out of the ground with one hand and a cutlass with the other._

" _Sonido. Interesting," noted Kokoronai Tenshi. "Already you begin to use Hollow abilities. I'm impressed. It's a much better power set for you than those weak little spiritual powers your Shinigami friends are so proud of. Still, it won't be enough to strike me down!"_

" _That's not the point!" Shinji called, dashing towards her and experimenting with what Kokoronai Tenshi had called sonido, circling her. He used sonido to close the distance, flashing in and attacking, then popping to attack from another angle when the inevitability of his blade breaking became evident. Popping back and grabbing a pair of scimitars, he engaged her in a relentless barrage of blows, each one expertly parried with her Shikai form. Finally, he sacrificed one scimitar to score a blow above her right eye, the blood flowing freely into the eye itself, partly blinding her._

 _Using sonido, he popped back. "Then I was right! Every time our blades clash, I learn more about you! I absorb your natural skill into myself with every collision! And because of that, I will eventually win!"_

 _She smiled. "Congratulations. You have learned the first lesson of being invincible. Only those who are truly strong know the meaning of strength, and only the invincible know the meaning of invincibility. But he who knows he is to win has an advantage that he who does not lacks—conviction is truly that which cuts in a blade!"_

 _Shinji nodded. 'All those times, all those battles I only won by a hair's breadth… Was that what I lacked? Conviction? Only one way to find out…'_

 _Using sonido, he popped over and plucked a daishō out of the ground, using one blade in each hand. He twirled them and then popped forth and brought them both down against the ōdachi. Sparks flew, and Shinji smiled as he believed he had found it, that he had found true strength. Then Kokoronai Tenshi smiled, and Shinji knew his folly. Still, he was powerless to resist being pushed back and then even more powerless to stop her counterattack from shattering both blades. Shinji, recognising her posture as the beginning of a Bōkyaku, and, knowing that he could not allow himself to take a direct hit from that devastating attack, he popped out of reach, bringing up a pair of broadswords to take the impact of her follow-up strike, which bit deep into both blades._

" _You feel it, don't you?" asked Kokoronai Tenshi._

" _Feel what?!" Shinji hissed between gritted teeth as he refused to be pushed back._

" _Each blade becoming stronger as we clash. Each limit becoming harder and harder to break. Eventually you'll feel as though you've hit a wall, and in that moment, you will know what it means to truly despair. Those who are strong, those who are invincible, will strike harder, strike faster, and strike unrelentingly. Only then will they break past their limits! You must not despair. You must try all the harder, and_ _ **believe**_ _that the limit can be broken. For if you believe it can be, it is only a matter of time before it will be."_

 _Shinji growled, throwing his shoulder into the blow and throwing Kokoronai Tenshi just a little bit off balance. But that was enough to strike down on her with both shoulders, cutting deeply and through the bone that existed beneath it. Then, using the dexterity learned in the Angel Wars, he ran up and planted his feet into his zanpakutō spirit's abdomen, and pushed off in a sonido-augmented backflip, pulling the blades with him and hewing her flesh. Blood gushed with a high degree of pressure, reminding Shinji that she was an Evangelion as much as she was a zanpakutō spirit, but as he looked down, he knew to be wary, for her blood was eating through the already chipped blades._

 _Tossing them away, he went through sonido to bring forth a yari—since that was a blade as well—and a wakizashi, and using both, he dashed forward again, experimenting and using sonido to amplify his speed, engaging in a high-speed exchange with his EVA spirit, finally using his yari to impale the spirit through the heart and then moved in to slash the wakizashi across her throat._

 _The ōdachi came up, however, and in a counter-blow, broke the wakizashi in half._

 _Eyes widening, Shinji made to dash back, but the Shikai slashed him from shoulder to hip, nearly bifurcating him, before he was able to do so. He was able to use sonido to pop back, but he was on his knees when he landed, trying to keep his guts from spilling out between his fingers with his own blood._

" _It seems you won't be able to control your Bankai after all, Ikari Shinji. A shame. I was looking forward to working with you," said Kokoronai Tenshi, lifting the ōdachi high and preparing to finish the job. "Goodbye, Ikari Shinji."_

 _The ōdachi descended, but Shinji caught it with his hand._

 _Kokoronai Tenshi's eyes widened. "Impossible!"_

 _Shinji stood slowly, but he stood, his wounds healing at an astounding rate. "You…won't beat me…_ _ **I will not run away!**_ _"_

" _High speed regeneration! Fascinating…!"_

" _I don't care what it is, and I don't care what I have to do, but I won't let you beat me! I won't let you strike me down! I won't let you hurt Sōsuke!" Shinji roared._

" _So, you've finally stopped being a pussy?"_

" _Fuck…you!" he growled, forcing the blade away. She reeled, and setting up for the technique, he roared, "_ _ **Sōkotsu!**_ _"_

 _The rupture caused the Heartless Angel—and in retrospect, trying to imaple something that didn't have a heart in the heart was a bit daft, even for him—to recoil, vomiting blood everywhere. Letting the acid blood splash down on him, Shinji grinned in a way reminiscent of Zaraki. "Pain… This is what I live for… BANKAI!"_

 _An eruption of violet-black energy exploded into being around him, kicking up ash and dust and weapons in a whirling bladewind. When the dust erupted into clearing, revealing Shinji in the same armour as Kokoronai Tenshi's Hollow form, he declared, with the double-tone of a Hollow, the name of the power they shared._

" _Zankoku na Tenshi no T_ _ēze."_

 _Kokoronai Tenshi smiled. "You have exceeded my wildest expectations, Shinji. You are truly as superior as Asuka claimed, albeit sarcastically, you to be. But do not grow to conceit! You still have yet to defeat me!"_

 _Shinji pointed over her shoulder, and Kokoronai Tenshi turned, her eyes going wide as she beheld it. A hill, rimmed with seventeen swords on the first rank, and then a second rank of twelve, and on the very top was a stone, upon which was an anvil, in which was planted the_ _ōdachi that was Kokoronai Tenshi's Shikai form. When she looked back, Shinji was gone, and she looked around wildly, before she felt a stinging sensation across her back. Then, it erupted into unimaginable pain, as she looked down and saw the kissaki of the ōdachi piercing the centre of her chest._

" _Then…I have fallen." Kokoronai Tenshi closed her eyes as she went to her knees. "Awaken, then, Ikari Shinji. But do try to visit every once in a while."_

" _Every day," replied Shinji. "I still have much to learn from you, Kokoronai Tenshi, and we have ten years in which to train, and a century beyond that before we are able to take on the entirety of Soul Society. You'll be sick of seeing me by the end of this."_

 _She smiled and shook her head fondly. "I somehow doubt that. But Sōsuke awaits."_

 _Shinji nodded. "I will keep my promise…_

" _...My zanpakutō."_


	4. Chapter 4 (Rewritten)

Chapter Four

 _Another unfamiliar ceiling…_

These were Shinji's first thoughts upon awakening from training to control his Bankai. Given the amount of stress the hollowfication put on his body, he had to assume he was in the Fourth Division, which meant that Unohana-taichо̄ had used her Kaidо̄ on his body. Suppressing a shiver at the thought of that woman touching him in any capacity, he looked to the side to see Sо̄suke and Zaraki standing there, and was shocked to see for what felt like the first time since Operation Yashima someone sitting at his bedside, waiting for him to awaken. It was a novel feeling, and one that he never thought he'd feel again after Third Impact ended the world, one with which he was unfamiliar enough before he had become a god and wiped out the entire human population on the planet.

"S…Sо̄suke?" Shinji whispered. "W-why are you here?"

He cocked his brow. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because you're not Rei, and no one else was."

A muscle in his jaw twitched, but his face remained largely neutral. "Well, that aside, you gave Zaraki and me quite the scare. Mind telling us what happened?"

Shinji nodded. "I have Bankai."

Sо̄suke chuckled. "I should say you do, given the wounds you inflicted on Zaraki and myself when you were in that state. Worry not. Unohana-taichо̄ knows only that you lost control of your Bankai. It happens often enough when Shinigami first achieve it that she didn't bat an eyelash."

"No, you don't understand," Shinji said, shaking his head. "My zanpakutо̄ spirit taught me how to control my Bankai. I can use it without fear of losing control now. I even know its name. Though… I should ask. My zanpakutо̄ spirit changed form when I fought her. Does that usually happen?"

Sо̄suke nodded. "Indeed, it does. The zanpakutо̄ is the expression of a Shinigami's power. They grow and evolve as we do. Speaking of which… Zaraki, bring a mirror."

Zaraki scoffed. "Do it yourself."

Sо̄suke scowled at him, but Shinji put a hand on his arm, looking at Zaraki, and in the process missing how Sо̄suke's face softened as he looked back at him, before saying, "Please bring me a mirror, Zaraki-kun. I should like to see to what Sо̄suke is referring."

Zaraki scowled, but did as bidden, leaving the two alone for a moment.

"You handled that well," Sо̄suke observed.

"Zaraki, while unquestionably loyal, is also unquestionably temperamental, Sо̄suke. There's a saying where I come from. In attempting to exterminate insects, you'll find you can attract far more with honey than with vinegar," Shinji said sagaciously, and then finally had his own voice register to him. "Sо̄suke, what in Soul Society has happened to my voice? I thought I was just dehydrated, but mere dehydration would not explain a complete change in register."

"That would be explained by what you'll see in the mirror. Though I should say that what you managed to do was something incredibly remarkable, if indeed you have done as I think you may have wound up doing," Sо̄suke responded cryptically.

Shinji was about to object to Sо̄suke's vague answer, but Zaraki chose that moment to enter, grumbling about being asked to bring, in his words, 'a fucking mirror'. He plopped it down, and what Shinji saw in the mirror took him aback.

"What…"

"I told you. The zanpakutо̄ evolves and grows with us. That connection works both ways with Shinigami."

Shinji was… _older._

He reached over and got up, and nearly fell over before Zaraki and Sо̄suke stabilised him. He was substantially taller, though still not quite as tall as Sо̄suke, and seemed to have aged almost a decade in a few days. His hair extended down past his shoulder blades to his waist, and his skinny form had filled out some, so that even though he wasn't broad-shouldered and burly, he was, in fact, now corded with lean and wiry muscle. His features had grown into their own as well, his face angular, his eyes no longer too big for his face. He looked…

"I look like a bishо̄nen…"

Sо̄suke cocked an eyebrow and smirked. " _Do_ you, now?"

Shinji frowned and sighed in frustration. "Honestly, Sо̄suke. I swear, sometimes you're worse than Katsuragi-shо̄sa. Zaraki, do you have anything I can tie this back with? If this obscures my vision when I'm fighting, that's going to be bad."

Zaraki grinned. "Che. I already got it. Here."

Zaraki handed Shinji a length of silk, and he reached back and tied his hair back into a high ponytail. Not liking the look of that, he let his bangs hang down, but not so much that they could possibly blind him. The style really brought out the angles in his face, and made him conform even more to the aesthetic he had grown into. He had always expected to see his father's face looking back at him when he grew older, and the thought of the old man's spiteful glare made him want to punch the mirror, but he supposed he ought to be glad that he ended up more like a male form of his mother. "Thank you, Zaraki. Now, where's my zanpakutо̄?"

"Here," said Sо̄suke, taking a bundle from next to him and giving it to Shinji. He unwrapped it, and brought forth his zanpakutо̄ in its— _or should I say 'her'?_ —saya. "I also brought you a change of clothes."

Sо̄suke brought forth a bundle, which Shinji unfolded with wonder. "This is… _black…_ "

Sо̄suke nodded. "You're no longer a student of Shinо̄reijutsuin, having gone through Bankai training, and a student _certainly_ can't challenge a Kenpachi. So I pulled some strings."

"I… I grew, though…" Shinji replied dumbly, looking down at himself and his surprisingly comfortable hospital gown.

"It's one size fits all. Try it," bade Sо̄suke as he began to walk away. "Zaraki and I will give you some privacy."

Shinji nodded, taking up the shihakushо̄ and dressing in it. When he looked at his reflection, with his long hair, he looked like a shо̄nen character from one of those manga Kensuke used to like to read on his notebook during class. He smiled bitterly at that recollection of the simpler times that used to happen during the Angel Wars. Tying his sash, he finally placed his zanpakutо̄ at his side, and though he felt his outfit to be somewhat incomplete, he was happy with how it turned out. Feeling something like a samurai, he slipped on his waraji and walked out into the hall. "I'm ready."

"Good," said Sо̄suke. "I took the liberty of procuring orders for your discharge from the Fourth Division following your awakening, since you finished healing a few days ago. Unohana wanted to keep you under observation, but even she conceded that that was a point of personal preference as opposed to standard procedure. It seems she has something of a soft spot for you."

Shinji nodded. With Katsuragi-shо̄sa, such words would have been teasing. With Sо̄suke, they were merely an observation, as if made in passing. Receiving remarks of that nature were, between the two, entirely different experiences. "Very well. So, how do I challenge the Kenpachi to a duel? What is the protocol?"

"There isn't one," replied Sо̄suke. "Rather, you will create it. How do you want to go about it?"

Shinji smirked coldly. "I always _did_ favour the direct approach…"

* * *

The arena had been set up rather recently in the Eleventh Division barracks' courtyard, where training was usually done, but having been done by the other divisions, it wasn't half bad. In the stands sat the captains who weren't participating: Ukitake Jūshirō, Hikifune Kirio, Shiba Isshin, Muguruma Kensei, Kyōraku Shunsui, Aikawa Love, Kuchiki Ginrei, Hirako Shinji, Unohana Retsu, Ōtoribashi Rōjūrō, Shihōin Yūtaro, and last but not least, a rather irate Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni. It was Aizen's understanding that the old sōtaichō had forbidden Shinji to fight the Kenpachi, Kuchiki Kariya, who was not amongst them and instead waited for Shinji down in the pit, when Shinji had informed him two weeks prior. Thankfully, Aizen had already delivered the missive to the captain, who had already given his acceptance, and so old observances of honour had to be kept. The sōtaichō's hands were effectively tied, and he obviously was less than pleased.

Shinji stepped into the sun, his shihakushō impeccable, already having customised his look with a pair of fingerless plain white tekkō and a violet sash. The Kenpachi stepped forth, a rather athletic, toned man with shoulder-length black hair and intimidating, piercing green eyes. As Kuchiki Ginrei's nephew, he had the right to wear a kenseikan, and his Eleventh Division haori was long-sleeved as Unohana's had been, his neck adorned with a beaded pendant and a red scarf. He was a handsome man, and as the second Kenpachi, his sword, Masamune, was propped up on his shoulder. "So, you're the kid who came here to die?"

"You're the fool who thinks he's going to survive this?" Shinji called back, Kokoronai Tenshi still sheathed.

Kuchiki Kariya laughed harshly. "You stand before a noble, _commoner._ If you…"

"And you talk too much," Shinji sighed. "I find myself getting bored. Show yourself worthy of that haori you wear and the title you so flippantly flaunt, or I'll cut you down where you stand and take it off your bloody corpse."

"Your insolence won't go unpunished!" Kariya spat, taking Masamune off of his shoulder and suspending it upside down in a counterclockwise rotation. " _Murmur, Masamune._ "

"And your arrogance will be your undoing," replied Shinji. "Honestly, just use your Bankai already. We all know how this is going to end."

"Che." And suddenly, Kariya was across the battlefield. Shinji caught the blade with both hands as it came down at him, the only change in his expression being a faint widening of his eyes.

"I see you're not a slouch. Good. But I sense a dissonance between you and Masamune," remarked Shinji.

"What?!" Kariya spat.

Shinji sighed. "Allow me to demonstrate. _Ikkotsu!_ "

Taking a hand away from the blade catch, which Aizen was certain was Hierro-reinforced if only because he knew Shinji's tells so well, Shinji performed a flawless Ikkotsu that sent Kariya flying back and into the wall.

"His attack lacked power," observed Yamamoto.

 _That was because he was trying to gain distance, you old fool,_ Aizen thought to himself. Kyōka Suigetsu did not comment.

Shinji stepped forward, speaking as he drew his zanpakutō. "Though he adores you, you regard your sword as a thing. But a zanpakutō is not a tool. They are companions, reflections of our inner selves. Such discordance shall only hasten the inevitability of your defeat. Witness, then, the truth of the bond between Shinigami and zanpakutō. _Descend, Kokoronai Tenshi._ "

The power no longer erupted in an explosive conflagration, and instead, the sealed sword came alight with blackish-violet flames, consuming its entirety. As Shinji braced his other hand against its spine and called the Kaigo, the fires flared, draining the heat and light from around it into a foul void as it lengthened, and when the flames died down, the sword was once more an elegant ōdachi. Then, using sonido, Shinji vanished and reappeared behind Kariya.

Their blades clashed, and sparks flew as their flared reiatsu crashed into one another.

"You who knows only the desire to stand alone, supreme—you have no idea of the kind of hell, what brand of suffering you are wishing upon yourself!" With that, Shinji used both hands on his blade and pushed Kariya back. "Now, show me your Bankai, or dissipate, now, into the empty void of nothingness that you have bought with your pride."

"You want my Bankai?!" Kariya spat, regaining his footing. "You presume to show to me the truth of the zanpakutō?! Very well! _Bankai! Masamune Tenmatō!_ "

Lilac energy erupted from Kariya's body, and Shinji's own blackish-violet surrounded him. Aizen sat up, ready to use Kyōka Suigetsu in order to change the perceptions of everyone around him so that they wouldn't see Shinji's Bankai, but as Kariya emerged, Shinji's own energy died down. Kariya himself was attired in a strangely western fashion, with a white coat that boasted a mane of fur at the collar, and a lilac cravat with a ruby brooch adorned his neck. In his hand was still his blade, all but unchanged.

Shinji looked at his sword, and said audibly, "Sorry, Kokoronai Tenshi. Looks like I won't need my Bankai to take this guy on."

Kariya, beyond words, attacked head-on, his movements a blur of Hohō-augmented speed that Aizen pretended to be too slow to be able to keep up with. Shinji returned in kind, deflecting each attack one after another with one hand, diverting the energy down his blade instead of taking all of it at once and possibly losing his sword. Kariya was strong, but Shinji had been in a near-constant state of jinzen over the past two weeks, training against his zanpakutō spirit. While Kariya was deserving of his title, or at least, as deserving as one such as he could be while the original Kenpachi yet lived, Shinji and Kokoronai Tenshi were as one being, moving seamlessly from one form to the next.

"Hachibai Setsudan," Shinji intoned, following with a single motion of his sword, but for all that it was a single motion, it seemed that eight swords converged on Kariya all at once. He parried three, but cried out as the other five cut deep into his flesh, drawing great gouts of blood as they were pulled free and rent the tissue. "Kage-ō no Kamui."

At once, Shinji's back erupted into three pairs of massive wings consumed in the same violet flames that had taken his sword when he had entered Shikai.

"Saishū Surasuto."

Shinji took flight, disappearing, and half a blink of an eye later, Kokoronai Tenshi was through Kariya's defences, up to the tsuba in his heart.

From the back.

Kariya fell to his knees.

Shinji planted his foot to Kariya's back…

...And pushed.

The Kenpachi was dead.

* * *

 _One Week Later…_

Ikari Shinji, now known as the Third Kenpachi, tied his hair up into a high ponytail as he prepared himself for his very first captain's meeting. That is, the very first captain's meeting since he managed to kill the Second Kenpachi, Kuchiki Kariya, and since he got out of confinement on order of Central 46. It seemed that all politicians were alike, or so Sōsuke had told him. Shinji laughed to think of it. _Oh, if Rei or Asuka could see me now…_

His shihakushō was brand new and freshly pressed, and he had a captain's haori made custom for him by the Kuchiki Clan. Thanks to Sōsuke, it had been uncovered that Kuchiki Kariya had been involved in a highly illegal sex trafficking ring, complete with witnesses and material evidence, though how much of that was real and how much of that was merely one of Sōsuke's illusions with Kyōka Suigetsu was something that Shinji didn't know, and quite frankly didn't care to know—though his apathy from his previous life was bleeding out of him slowly, it was not entirely gone. Therefore, since Kuchiki Ginrei, Captain of the Sixth Division, was appreciative of the stain being preemptively washed from his family name, Shinji was offered sponsorship by the noble clan in question.

The finely-crafted haori was immaculate, white with a violet lining, a stiff collar and edged with golden filigree; moreover, it was sleeveless and bore the kanji for "eleven" on the back as if painted with a black brush. Donning the haori over his shihakushō, he slipped the tekkō he was given along with it onto his hands, though the tekkō came with a catch of training the next head of the Kuchiki Clan. This Shinji did not mind, for it gave him the chance he never got with Suzuhara, that being to teach him the ropes, to be the senpai for once, and to be looked up to. Part of him felt as though he wasn't worthy of it, but he would do his best at the very least. It wasn't as though Sōsuke had put him in a position where he could refuse the honour.

Shinji took a moment to observe his naked zanpakutō. In its sealed form, it was a slightly overlong katana that had an octagonal tsuba with a violet silk ribbon wrapped around the tsuka and a bronze tsuka gashira, but it lacked the pentagonal sakura bloom of its Shikai form. Kokoronai Tenshi's blade was still that immaculate moonlit silver, but in the shadows it appeared black as the deep waters that Sōsuke's zanpakutō was thought to command. Taking up the saya in his opposite hand, he slid the sword home and slipped the sheathed blade into his obi. He ran a hand up to his head and debated leaving one of the longer bangs to cross over onto his face, or to brush it back and tie it back as he had done the rest of his hair. Finally deciding to go for a more effeminate look and embrace the bishōnen aesthetic he seemed to have been endowed with by his mother, he let the bangs hang over his face, making one of his eyes seem to be obscured. He needn't let anyone know he could see out of it anyway, after all.

"If you're quite finished preening, you might as well come along. We have a little ways to walk to the First Division barracks," came Sōsuke's voice from the threshold. Shinji turned around and gazed upon his friend, more of a friend than even Kaworu had ever been, and nodded slightly, startled out of the enigmatic aura he was attempting to project from himself. "You look fine. The haori fits you rather well, all things being equal."

"Th-thank you, Sōsuke," Shinji nodded, blushing a little. He was nervous. Why was he nervous? "Why am I nervous?"

"Because you're going into a meeting with a few hardened military personnel, some of whom have held their position for decades if not centuries," Sōsuke said, coming up behind Shinji and helping him style his hair a little more elaborately. "But you needn't worry. The vice-captains were also called, so I'll be right there with you."

Shinji smiled, his face changing from one of apprehension to peace and reassurance. "I'll help you achieve your dream, Sōsuke, even if I have to walk through another ocean of blood to do it."

"You know I would never ask that of you," Sōsuke chided.

"All my life, people have been asking, demanding things of me. First it was my sensei, then Gendō, then Katsuragi-shōsa. The list goes on. Almost everyone important to me has asked something of me, and those who haven't…abandoned me. You ask nothing of me but what I'm willing to give, and somehow, I don't think you're going to abandon me, Sōsuke," said Shinji.

"Never," Sōsuke swore. "Aside from Kyōka Suigetsu, you are my only friend. Why would I ever ask anything of you save that which you have already given?"

Shinji struggled for a moment, but was saved when Zaraki knocked on the door. "Yo! You two comin' out or am I gonna have to break the door down?!"

Shinji smiled. "My new vice-captain, patient and decorous as ever."

With that, Shinji turned around and reached up to kiss Sōsuke gently, tenderly, using his hand to caress Sōsuke's face the way the almost catatonic Asuka had caressed his own. It had made him once feel so horribly alone, but now he understood that Asuka was trying to show him that he wasn't alone. And now, he was imparting that message, however imperfectly, to Sōsuke.

Sōsuke, for his part, stiffened almost in shock as Shinji did this, and finally as the former Third Child, now Third Kenpachi, pulled away, hurt by the rejection. But even still, he had to say it, would never forgive himself if he didn't. "I love you, Aizen Sōsuke."

Sōsuke seized him and pressed a crushing kiss back into his lips, and Shinji moaned girlishly, until Zaraki banged on the door so hard that it nearly broke in. They broke apart and laughed, both children who were tragically forced to grow up too quickly looking to each other and feeling at last no longer alone in the world.

"I should have known you two would be getting all lovey-dovey in here. C'mon, you two! You don't wanna be late, do you?!" Zaraki demanded.

"No, no, you're right, Zaraki," replied Shinji, stepping forth and walking out of the room. For appearances' sake, Sōsuke took point, and it was the other two who walked behind, Zaraki in his shihakushō with the seam pulled apart down the centre of his well-muscled chest, his midsection wrapped in bandages, with the band of the vice-captain on his arm. They walked, and then as time went on, used shunpō after shunpō to get there faster. They alighted on the ground before the First Division, and Zaraki went to the side, waiting to be called into the room.

The pair walked into the First Division barracks, Sōsuke taking his place besides Hirako-taichō of the Fifth Division, and Yamamoto rapped his zanpakutō on the ground. "I hereby call this meeting of captains to order. Here we stand to accept into our ranks a new captain, the Third Kenpachi, Ikari Shinji."

Shinji took that as his cue, and began to walk in, his finely-crafted haori billowing out behind him as he walked past the disapproving gazes of each of the captains, even Ukitake and Kyōraku, both who had a reputation for kindly open-mindedness. Only Ginrei looked on appreciatively, and even then looking as though he had bit into something a bit sour. But he was prepared for that. The only one whose gaze mattered was Sōsuke's, and his was one that caused him to continue walking to his spot besides Hikifune Kirio, standing there and bowing to his newfound colleagues.

"The current vice-captain of the Eleventh Division—"

"—Will not be needed, with respect, Yamamoto-sōtaichō," Shinji interrupted. "I have already selected my vice-captain."

With that, Zaraki came walking in, a cocky grin on his face. Shinji presented him with the vice-captain's armband, and he tied it on without much ceremony.

"Now listen here, _boy!_ You have a lot to learn about the Gotei 13 and how we operate…"

"With respect, once more, Sōtaichō," said Shinji, and now even Unohana was looking at him as though he was insane. Good. The cocky image would help project the feeling of callow youth he did not feel in the slightest. "Is it not true that it is the right of each captain to choose their vice-captain? I feel no one is more qualified for the post than Zaraki-fukutaichō."

Unohana stepped forward and placed a hand on both Zaraki's and Shinji's shoulders. "I will vouch for Zaraki-fukutaichō's competency. He is the boy who caused me to give up my title. Granted, I had wished to see _him_ as the Kenpachi, but if he is willing to serve under Ikari-taichō, I would advise you to let him."

"Very well," Yamamoto sighed. "But on your head be it, Ikari-taichō, if he should fail in his duties."

"I accept the responsibility, Sōtaichō," replied Shinji, bowing low at the waist once more.

"Very well. You will both report to me directly after the captain's meeting and we will see about continuing your education. Zaraki-fukutaichō especially was reported as skipping his kendō classes to go gallivanting about with you and Aizen-fukutaichō. I certainly hope you learned something in your tutelage under him, Ikari-taichō, Zaraki-fukutaichō."

"Yes, Sōtaichō," replied Shinji, bowing at the waist.

"Whatever, old man," replied Zaraki in turn.

Yamamoto's large, ponderous eyebrow twitched.

* * *

The bokutō clashed against each other as the Sōtaichō was forced back. Zaraki sighed, missing Nozarashi's comforting weight already, and hating having to have both hands on the tsuka of the practise sword he was using. It felt like cheating to one who really did prefer using one hand to swing the massive, chipped ōdachi he wielded on a day to day basis, but that was what the old man forced him to use for the sake of the techniques he was teaching, so at his captain's behest, Zaraki did it. Shinji stood back against the side wall, not needing tutelage in zanjutsu for how he had won against the Second Kenpachi, watching Zaraki's lesson with a critical eye. Zaraki gave it his all, though he despised learning techniques from a source other than combat itself, hoping to one day grow strong enough to defeat his captain's Bankai. It drove him onward.

"We're not done yet, _boy,_ " said the old man, his mouth twisted into a sneer beneath the immense weight of his white moustaches. "Get your head out of the clouds."

"Yeah, yeah, old man," replied Zaraki, readying himself for the old man to come forward at him. He took his stance, the bokutō held loosely in his two-handed grip, and as the old man came forth with a great kiai, and Zaraki, or Za-chan, as Nozarashi continued to address him, stepped to the side of the swing, parried it, and brought his bokutō down on the old man's wrists, breaking the bokutō but otherwise not scratching the old man's iron hide. His reiatsu was simply too great for wood, even wood made from reishi, to break his skin, let alone his bones, no matter how much force was exerted upon the practise sword.

Of course, he would have just taken the sword strike in the ordinary course, but he knew that with Shinji's zanpakutō's absurd sharpness, Kokoronai Tenshi would rip right through his skin and bone if he did that, so avoidance was key.

"Excellent, boy," said the old man. "Controlling the line of my blade is central to kendō. Do you understand this?"

"Yes, old man," replied Zaraki.

The old man's eyebrows twitched. "I'll beat that disrespectful attitude out of you yet, boy. We start again tomorrow."

Zaraki nodded, dropping the broken bokutō on the floor and going to grab Nozarashi from the side of the room, her wooden saya wrapped entirely in white bandages, slipping it into his obi, and, not seeing Shinji where he had been, walked out.

He found the Third Kenpachi in jinzen in the centre of the courtyard outside of the dojo, Kokoronai Tenshi laying across his lap. The sealed zanpakutō that Zaraki dreamed of fighting against at full strength laid there, but Zaraki got the strangest feeling it was watching him. _**You're just being silly, Za-chan! She's as engaged as he is!**_

The strangely childlike voice of his zanpakutō rang out in the confines of his head. He grunted in response, standing there and waiting for Shinji to be finished training. It was at that point when Shinji's eyes opened and he got up. "Ah, Zaraki. You're finished with the Sōtaichō?"

"Yeah. It's a real pain, though," the adolescent complained. "The old man keeps treating me like some sort of kid. Why can't I be an adult like you?"

"Because you have yet to achieve Bankai," said Shinji.

"And how is that fair?! I've had my asauchi since before you came to Soul Society."

"Because I've been in life or death situations with my zanpakutō spirit before," said Shinji. "I even once fused with her, though that was a while ago. As of right now, she's just been training me to use her better. Every night when I go to sleep, it's training. Every time I meditate, it's training. I mean, who better to teach you to use a sword than the sword herself?"

"That's…a fair point," said Zaraki, thinking to himself. "And how do you get your zanpakutō to train you?"

"I just use jinzen when I want to train, and then when I go to sleep, well, it's not like I have anything better to do. I'm not terribly fond of nightmares," said Shinji.

"So what you do when you sit and have your zanpakutō on your lap?" asked Zaraki. "That sounds boring. I'd rather be fighting."

"Sometimes you have to do something boring in order to fight," said Shinji. "I cannot begin to count the amount of sessions I spent in what amounted to jinzen when I was alive, just synchronising with my zanpakutō spirit. With my mother's help, of course."

"Was she some sort of rogue shinigami?"

"No, she was a scientist from a world that no longer exists," replied Shinji. "She gave her life so that I could fight the Angels."

"Angels? Are those like Quincies or something?"

"Yes, except that Quincies are human at their core, using Angelic powers, from what I understand," said Shinji. "These were pure, though they were ultimately just children, as forced to fight in the war as we were."

"And let us hope they never come to face us the way they destroyed your world," said Sōsuke, walking in to pick them up. "Zaraki, I can teach you jinzen if you would like. Shinji's methods might seem unconventional and won't work for someone who has yet to go through a serious war like yourself."

"Yeah, yeah, alright," said Zaraki, running a hand through his mane of wild black hair. "I'll let ya teach me jinzen. But only to learn bankai."

 _ **Oh, Za-chan, you're gonna visit?! Yay!**_

Sōsuke looked at Zaraki's face with a smirk. "I should warn you that our zanpakutō can be somewhat exuberant when we talk about achieving Bankai. I know Kyōka Suigetsu enjoys using Bankai when it can be done, which isn't often, but has happened in the past."

"Please don't tease him, Sōsuke," Shinji replied with a sigh, taking off with a shunpō towards the Eleventh Division. Zaraki did the same, and Sōsuke was left there, smiling to himself before he went off to his own division.


	5. Chapter 5 (Rewritten)

Chapter Five

The sound of slapping flesh rang out in the cave they had appropriated as a training arena as Shinji and Sōsuke sparred. Shinji's haori and half of his shihakushō was stashed away in another corner of the room, so he was shirtless, his wiry body beginning to develop lean muscle as he trained and his body rested, his soul beginning to show the results of his day and night training in both his inner world and here, with Sōsuke. The same man whose hakuda skills outstripped those of any teacher Shinji had ever had before. Neither man could get a clean hit on the other, Sōsuke whose skills were in pinpoint accuracy, and Shinji whose skills lay in a conservative defensive style, designed to limit the damage done to both himself and the Evangelion he had piloted during the Angel Wars.

They flashed in their clashing, Shinji blocking and flowing around each of Sōsuke's blows and redirecting their momentum. But every time he was ready to end it with a well-placed Ikkotsu, he was forced to redirect at the last moment as Sōsuke stood ready to render his arm useless, which would cost crucial seconds to undo even with Shinji's Hollow regeneration. It wasn't actual damage that was inflicted, but a block that was put into the movement of reiryoku throughout the soul, and so only forcing enough reiryoku through the block to burst it would do anything to negate its effects.

"Enough!" called Sōsuke, and instantaneously Shinji backed away. "You're holding back, Shinji."

"How?" Shinji asked.

"I happen to know that you're capable of so much more than you're doing right now," the other man chided. "Like Sonído."

"Sonído?"

"Your Hollow form is that of a Vasto Lorde. Therefore, you should be able to master Sonído, and perhaps even combine it with the technique of shunpō for even faster movements," said Sōsuke. "Come, try it. Give it everything you have."

Shinji sighed, and then closed his eyes, letting out his breath slowly. When his eyes snapped open, his sclera were black, and his irises burned scarlet. "Very well. I have an idea."

His Hollow reiatsu flared and pulsed through his body, and his arms erupted in violet flame. His legs flaring with the same flaming reiryoku, he dashed forward in a mixture of Sonído and shunpō, together with the enhancement given to him by the enhancement technique, and struck. Once, twice, thrice did his punches come, and Sōsuke was only barely able to avoid them, his hands stinging with each impact. Then Sōsuke tried an attack of his own, but that was batted aside and Shinji countered with a textbook-perfect sōkotsu. He then leapt into the air with a Sonído-enhanced jump, and as he plunged down, he went feet-first, striking down so that it took a Bakudō No. 81: Dankū to stop his descent. Shinji leapt off, sliding back in the dirt, and then struck forth with all his speed behind a single punch. Though truth be told, it was more a clothesline than a punch when all was said and done.

Sōsuke caught the punch, even as it forced him back several paces. "Very good."

"Not good enough," Shinji sighed as the glow died down and his eyes returned to normal.

"By no means was it not good enough," said Sōsuke. "That was a technique known as Shunkō. It's usually only taught to members of the Shihōin Clan, one of the Five Noble Clans of the Seireitei and hereditary commanders of the Onmitsukidō. It combines Kidō with Hakuda for attacks of devastating speed and force. But this only confirms a suspicion I had."

"Which is?"

"You can learn to use Kidō," Sōsuke explained. "Admittedly, you'll have to use your Shinigami reiatsu to power the one hundred ninety-eight Kidō the Shinigami use, but I have no doubt that there are types of Kidō available to the Vasto Lordes that they never learned to use simply because as creatures of such immense power, they never had to learn to cooperate. And to think that my experiments had hit a dead end without you, Shinji."

Shinji blushed. "It's… Well, I mean, I'm glad I could help."

"You've been an incredible help," said Sōsuke fiercely. "Thanks to you, I'll be able to learn more about…"

"Oh, just get a room already, you two," cried Zaraki as he stood up and out of jinzen, already looking a bit older than he did before.

Shinji flushed scarlet and Sōsuke looked at Zaraki sharply, only for Zaraki to not even flinch under the bespectacled gaze of the Fifth Division vice-captain. But then Zaraki looked to Shinji's blushing face and nodded. "I'm headed back to the dorms to go meditate some more. There're a few hot springs over in that direction. Why don't you two get some privacy and do something before the sexual tension between you two crushes the air out of the lungs of the collective Seireitei?"

Shinji nodded and walked over to the hot springs Zaraki indicated, stripping off the rest of his shihakushō as he went, while Zaraki took the naked Nozarashi and propped it up against his shoulder as he left, leaving Sōsuke looking between the two retreating backs, more than a little nonplussed.

"Sōsuke, are you coming?" Shinji asked over his shoulder.

* * *

Aizen Sōsuke had not had an easy life. From childhood, he had always been different from the other children in Soul Society, always leaps and bounds more powerful, and they were afraid of him. _It is good that they are,_ his father often said. _If they weren't, given the chance, they would use you up and throw you away._

His father wasn't a bad parent by any stretch of the imagination—he genuinely believed what he was telling Aizen, and in his view, it was very much the case that he was protecting his son from being hurt and used by those who, like Central 46, would be terrified of the power he would one day wield, and Aizen, though in the good days hated his father, in the days after he had first fully communed with Kyōka Suigetsu, had come to appreciate the value in what he said. Ever since then, all through the conflicts he had been through, from the Quincy War to the latest Rukongai uprising, he had believed what his father had said. That anyone he got close to would manipulate him—would use him up and throw him away like so much garbage if they were given the opportunity to do so, and all because of his massive power. So he had stayed away as best he could, manipulating and controlling everyone over whom he had any degree of influence, and a great many he didn't, like pieces on a chessboard.

Now, though, as he lay against the rock wall of the hot springs, his young lover propped up against him, his seed oozing out of the young man's—boy's, really, even by human standards, at only fifteen years old—backside, asleep and looking oh-so-very trusting, all the fears he thought realised and dealt with reared their heads again. He didn't want to lose this, this closeness, this intimacy that he had only ever had with this child, though he looked a man. He had never had anything he ever valued before, aside from Kyōka Suigetsu who would never betray him, and so he was at a loss. He didn't want to lose this, but the only way he knew how to make sure that he never lost something was to control it, to bend it to his will completely and utterly, if only so that it would never abandon him.

But not even he was perfect. His ability to control Shinji would only go so far. So he would hold him at arm's length while pretending to love him. He blocked out Kyōka Suigetsu's insistences that he did indeed love the boy. He did not need Shinji's blind love as anything more than a tool to be used. After all, gods did not need love.

* * *

The day that Shinji began to truly prove his worth to Aizen and his cause was a month later, when Shinji was just finishing up the reorganisation of the Eleventh Division. That morning, Aizen was working on the creation of the Hōgyoku in his private lab in the Rukongai, having used Kyōka Suigetsu to supplant himself in the Fifth Division barracks with a peon to do his work for him. Aizen was working out a string of equations, the troublesome little ball sitting in an open case next to him, and no sooner did he turn around than did Shinji appear behind him, a shy smile on his face and a box in his hands.

Aizen started, stumbling back and closing the box. "Shinji! What are you doing here?!"

"I brought you lunch," said Shinji cheerily, placing the bento down on the table next to the Hōgyoku.

"How did you find this place?! It was supposed to be untraceable!"

"To a Shinigami, perhaps," Shinji replied. "Really, Sōsuke, relax. We're in this together, remember? I even managed to cover myself by saying I was coming out here to practise my Kidō. I still can't do Bakudō to save my life, after all."

Then Shinji caught sight of the calculations behind Aizen, and with a Hollow's strength and speed dodged around him and stood in front of the blackboard. He picked up a piece of chalk and began to write out equations of his own, scratching out some of Aizen's. This allowed Aizen precious time to regain his composure and look, really _look,_ at what Shinji was doing. "What is that? How are you able to comprehend what I'm doing?"

"It's really not all that different from Super Solenoid Theory," Shinji said thoughtfully. "Though the Super Solenoid Organ is divine in nature, an alteration to its basic principles can be used in application of this theoretical 'world seed' you seem to be fixated on creating. This won't break down the boundaries between Hollow and Shinigami, though. Or at least, that's not _all_ it will do. It will grant the heart's desire, and give one without sufficient power to achieve such a goal the power to do exactly that."

"Yes, that's correct," Aizen said. "How did you…?"

"However, it has a flaw," Shinji continued. "And that is that it lacks for energy to feed off of, such that you'd need two world seeds to make one complete world seed. The answer to this is in a Super Solenoid Organ."

"It's called the Hōgyoku. But what do you mean to do with this knowledge?"

"Simple. Fix your mistake," said Shinji.

"Excuse me?" Aizen remarked, cocking his head.

"You're excused," said Shinji, smiling slightly and shaking his own head, his high ponytail flowing like water in the air, and Aizen ruthlessly suppressed the desire to take that hair and see if it felt as smooth and lustrous as it looked. "You made this Hōgyoku with the souls of Shinigami. You'll need one made from the souls of Hollows, preferably Vasto Lordes. I can get those for you within an afternoon, if I can open a garganta to Hueco Mundo far enough away to not be noticed. But to complete it? The power source would have to come from a Super Solenoid Organ, which can, it follows, be theoretically obtained from burning the humanity off of the souls of the Quincy."

"And where are you going to get the souls of these Quincy?" Aizen asked, testing how much Shinji knew.

In response, Shinji shrugged his shoulders and looked at Aizen with a terrifyingly innocent, horrifically trusting expression. "I honestly couldn't tell you."

Aizen sighed. His tool would be useful for some time yet. Knowledge was good, but too much would make Shinji a liability, a liability Aizen would then need to eliminate. Kyōka Suigetsu was more than up to the task, of course. He doubted that even his zanpakutō would contest that Shinji would need to be eliminated, if for no other reason than for his own good, if he knew about the Silbern. Still, he faked disapproval of Shinji's lack of knowledge. "A disappointing answer, but very well."

"One can't know everything," Shinji replied, ever so slightly defensive even as he chuckled. A pang hit Aizen's heart, but he shook it off even as Kyōka Suigetsu expressed her displeasure at his 'self-deception,' remembering his father's words to him from so long ago. "So, how did you get exposed to the idea of a world seed?"

"My father told me about the Hōgyoku as a bedtime story. The only one he ever told me," Aizen replied with a fond smile on his face.

"Tell me about your father," said Shinji as he came forth and took a seat on the desk in front of him. "I mean, it would be only fair. I told you all about _my_ father."

"My father was…a stranger, most of the time," Aizen replied, reminiscing. "He told me a great many things and taught me about the world. I grew up knowing I was special, knowing that my uniqueness would distance me from others. Then one day, he simply vanished. Such things have been known to happen, especially in the outer Rukongai districts, but I refused to accept that he could have simply up and died. Someone like him… Someone like him shouldn't have perished like he did. So because of this, the first opportunity I got to join the Gotei 13, I took."

"What was his name?"

"His name was Sasuke. Aizen Sasuke. And I have reason to believe that he may still be alive."

* * *

And far away, in the Second Division Maggot's Nest, a certain guard sneezed.

* * *

"Sōsuke, I think we're going to need more than just the Hōgyoku in order to defeat the Gotei 13," said Shinji as they walked far away from District 80 of the Rukongai. "I honestly think we're going to need an army. After all, if there's one thing the Angel Wars and serving as a Shinigami have taught me was that no one person, no matter if they are indeed the famed Ultimate Being or not, can be everywhere at once."

"I concur," said Sōsuke. "I had planned on putting together a force of Arrancar specifically for that purpose once the Hōgyoku was sufficiently complete to create them. Natural Arrancar are, after all, rather rare. By the way, here should be good enough."

"Yare yare, and here I thought we were just going to spend the rest of the day walking."

Both of them jumped and spun about, drawing their zanpakutō, but relaxed once they saw for themselves who it was. Sōsuke sighed. "Zaraki, you very nearly gave us heart attacks."

"Yeah, well, you should be more aware of your surroundings," said Zaraki. "I just managed to sneak away from the old man, only to find out that you were going to Hueco Mundo without me. And I wasn't going to let that stand."

"Zaraki-san, this is no field trip," replied Shinji. "I'm going to collect enormous amounts of energy from as many Hollows as I can find. This is going to be a tremendous undertaking."

"Even better. You need the backup, I need the exercise and the excuse," said Zaraki blithely, propping Nozarashi up on his shoulder as he swaggered forth to join the other two. At this point, he looked about nineteen years old, a far cry from the fourteen year old he had previously resembled before he began his training. His shihakushō was still relatively well-kept, but his lieutenant's badge already had a few scores in it, the wrapping already looking a tad threadbare. "Let's get going."

Shinji sighed, and Sōsuke chuckled. "You make a good point, Zaraki-fukutaichō. Very well. Shinji, if you would do the honours?"

"You're just saying that because you can't create a garganta on your own," Shinji grumbled, reaching forth and tapping the air. A great black yawning maw opened before them, and they stepped through it into the Dangai, the space between worlds. Shinji's naturally ambient reiatsu created the platform beneath him, and only Zaraki, who adamantly refused to learn Kidō, had any difficulty traversing the void.

When the trio's footfalls finally came upon terra firma once more, they found themselves staring out at an endless expanse of bone-white sand beneath a waning moon. Hueco Mundo.

"Well then, we'd best get started," Sōsuke said, stepping forth and drawing Kyōka Suigetsu. "Shinji, if you would?"

Shinji nodded, drawing Kokoronai Tenshi. "Bankai."

* * *

In the bottom of a pit, far away, where not even the light of the waning moon shone, pressed in on all sides by darkness and resting, or rather, as close as one such as he could come to resting, for some time, a Hollow wandered, and as he wandered aimlessly, he pondered the myriad mysteries of his existence. Why did he exist? What purpose was he meant to serve? And why that purpose, and why not the thousands of other purposes that could possibly exist and thus apply to him?

Faceless, pure white in a sea of bat-winged, black shapes, and voiceless amidst the gnashing of teeth and the rending of flesh, the Hollow existed in a state of perpetual ennui. He felt nothing, or rather, what he felt could only be described as the very concept of nothingness.

And then, for the very first time, he _heard_ something, in a way only something without ears could hear, in the bone-deep vibrations and striations of something of such unmatched savagery and unrivalled majesty that, though it could not be reflected in his eyes, it demanded to exist and would not be denied.

For the first time, he had a purpose. And with that purpose in the hole where his heart should have been, Ulquiorra Cifer began the long journey to discover what had made that sound.

Far away from him, a feline Hollow padded through the endless sands. Without companions to mark the passage of time, time itself began to blend together in little more than the constant tearing and rending, the endless quest for power, the seeking of the infamous power of the Vasto Lorde. He tore into his final meal before he was to rest with relish, feeling the black ichor on his jaw dripping into the sands as he consumed the Adjuchas he had just hunted down and killed, another victim of his bottomless ambition and his indefatigable resolve.

The howl of a Hollow ripped through him to his bones, causing something within him, buried deep, his primal instincts, to feel fear, to feel terror, and to feel an emotion utterly alien to him. Hope. Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez lifted his head from his finished meal, and thought to himself that his rest could be put off for a little longer. He padded away from the gutted carcass, beginning the long search for the shrieking howl so powerful that it ripped through him from such a distance.

Further still, the howl stirred something deep within the breast of one of the few Vasto Lordes not to bend the knee to the tyrant Baraggan Louisenbairn. It did not stir the same primality that shone on the sleeve of the panther, nor did it stir from ennui the Vasto Lorde as it had Ulquiorra. Instead, it spoke to something profoundly human within her, what little of it was left, and compelled her to seek it out, to find that true and perfect expression of focus and ambition that the Hollow howl represented. With this in mind, the centaur Nelliel Tu Odelschwanck, much like the other two, began her journey to seek out the one who made that wonderfully horrendous sound.

* * *

"Jeez, Shinji! Try a little harder! I don't think they heard you in the Royal Dimension!" Zaraki complained as he looked at Shinji, in his Resurrección, covering his ringing ears as the Hollow howl his friend had unleashed died down at last. And though Aizen somehow managed to maintain his composure, being at ground zero of such a horrid sound had unsettled him, too, at least somewhat.

"Yare yare, Zaraki-fukutaichō, have you no appreciation for the manners of a Hollow?"

"Quiet," ordered Shinji, his voice weird and double-toned. "They're coming."

True to his word, the ground began to rumble, and from beneath the ground came a massive winged Hollow, and from beneath that winged, horned, serpentine figure, masked though it was, came a flood of Adjuchas-class Hollows. Zaraki grinned. "Now _this_ is what I'm talkin' about! Rip and tear! Rend and maim! _Drink, Nozarashi!_ "

Swinging the massive cleaver with one hand, he began running at the draconic Hollow, and the horns on its head, a crest like a crown, charged at him. Aizen sighed to himself as he brought up the incomplete Hōgyoku and began to chant the incantation for the Kidō he had created specifically for the purpose of feeding the hungry seed. What Shinji likely didn't know was that the term 'seed' was more appropriate than he perhaps thought, as that was literally what it was. The seed of a species of creature long dead, older than the Soul King himself, thought to be only legend and myth when that abominable creature was created, the Hōgyoku would grant him the power to supplant the Soul King by fusing him with the creature that slumbered within the seed, waiting to be born.

But such musings were for another time, Aizen supposed, completing the incantation and allowing the spell to draw in the massive amounts of Hollow reishi Shinji was radiating and Zaraki was releasing in their purification, the corruption of Hollowfication itself growing and melding into an elemental essence that seemed to prove Shinji's calculations to be correct. The Hōgyoku was growing exponentially in power, and the embryonic entity within, the Will of the Hōgyoku, was beginning to gradually accelerate in its size and scope. The orb's luminescence was increasing a thousandfold, and as Aizen looked upon it, he smirked; he would have to reward Shinji later for being so astute as to realise what the Hōgyoku needed before even he did. It had been something of a conundrum he had been presented with, after all, and the solution was finally within his grasp.

More and more Hollows came forth, possessing various animalistic features, and Zaraki laughed maniacally as he shredded through them with his Shikai. Shinji merely stood there, attracting them like moths to a flame, his reiatsu controlled enough to make him look like quite the appealing snack.

* * *

"Shinji, I do believe we have almost enough Hollow reiatsu for the day," said Aizen some hours later, after Zaraki had almost grown bored of the slaughter, for of the Hollows it could be said there was no end in sight. "It's time we finished this and start off back to Soul Society, don't you think?"

Shinji nodded, and his reiatsu flared, a violet miasma that slammed down on the Hollows around him in a gravitational torrent that created a crater in the sand all around them and compressed it into glass, which then shattered into thousands of shards that flew up and floated down like flower petals in the silvered moonlight. The Hōgyoku glutted itself on the massive spike in Hollow reiatsu so many Hollows perishing at once created, and began to take on an ominous luminescence. Shinji looked at it and frowned beneath his Hollow mask. "It isn't finished yet…"

"And do you think a world seed could be created in a day?" replied Aizen, amusement apparent in his tone. "Come now. It's time we went back."

"Hai, Sōsuke," replied Shinji. He walked up to the other two while Aizen broke down the Kidō holding the Hōgyoku in place, feeding it reiatsu.

"Who goes there?" asked a female voice.

Shinji turned to regard the woman, and Aizen could feel her reiatsu like an ocean seeking to overwhelm him. A Vasto Lorde. She was a centaur with a deer's body instead of a horse's, and she held a lance in her hands as she came forth. Shinji spoke. "Ikari Shinji, Captain of the Eleventh Division of the Thirteen Court Guard Squads. This is Zaraki, Vice-Captain of the Eleventh Division. And this is Aizen Sōsuke, Vice-Captain of the Fifth Division, and my lover."

The word "lover" sent a thrill through Aizen along with a pang of guilt that twisted his stomach like an ulcer. He was so trusting that he felt horrible about betraying that trust and using the boy before throwing him away, but that was what was needed. A god did not need a lover. All the same, he inclined his head as he was introduced.

"I am Nelliel Tu Odelschwanck, Vasto Lorde of the Shifting Sands and the Dead Forest," she replied, swinging the bone white spear out and creating a circle around herself of sand. "I heard your call from across the plains. And I come at your summons. But what does a Shinigami captain want with a Vasto Lorde save to slay me, and how did you call the way you did?"

In response, Shinji came into the moonlight before Nelliel, and showed her his Hollow form.

"A Hollow?! Either the Shinigami have decided to begin accepting Hollows into their ranks, or more likely, you lie!" accused Nelliel.

Shinji merely flared his reiatsu, but something was wrong. He visibly struggled to seal his zanpakutō, perhaps something about his Hollow nature causing issues in this realm of so much ambient reishi, but finally he managed it. And then, in a flash of violet reiryoku, he stood there in his shihakushō and his haori, sheathing Kokoronai Tenshi for the moment, sliding the blade home with a click. "I am an Arrancar. I am Shinigami and Hollow both."

"Impossible! Arrancar are a myth!" Nelliel cried.

"And yet here I stand," replied Shinji, bowing at the waist. "So, Nelliel Tu Odelschwanck, will you join us?"

"What a day it is when a Vasto Lorde bows to a bastard Hollow," called out another voice, male this time, before Nelliel had a chance to respond. "I would never do such a thing, I who am destined to become king of Hueco Mundo!"

"We Hollows do not need a second tyrant, much less one who pretends at being Vasto Lorde, Adjuchas," snapped Nelliel, turning herself around and glaring at a blue eyed panther Hollow that glared at her in turn. "And who are you, interloper?"

"You do not think you were the only one to hear the howl, do you?" scoffed the panther. "I am Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, and I am going to become a Vasto Lorde, do you hear me?!"

"To become a Vasto Lorde is to achieve a level beyond Hollow," replied Shinji. "It is to devour the soul of a powerful Shinigami, to best them in battle."

"Then I know what I must do," replied Grimmjow, leaping towards the only captain there, who in one smooth motion drew his zanpakutō and slashed with it. The air was rent with the blade of Kokoronai Tenshi, the vacuum created causing air to rush inward concussively. The impact from air hitting air caused a shockwave that caught the cat in the underbelly and sent the panther sprawling to the sandy ground.

"Not your best career move, Jaegerjaquez-san," remarked Shinji. "Nelliel, will you challenge me as well?"

"I will watch, and I will see who wins. The victor will have my support," replied Nelliel.

Shinji nodded sagely. "The law of strength. Very well. Very well."

"As much as I despise it, might makes right amongst the Hollows," sighed Nelliel.

Grimmjow charged again, cutting off Shinji's response. With a roar, Grimmjow leapt, and Shinji parried Grimmjow's attack, the panther's claws scraping against the silvery blade of the zanpakutō. Shinji with one hand slashed Grimmjow away, and used Sonído to get into the feline's blind spot. The panther looked around, only to roar in pain as Kokoronai Tenshi bit deep into his Hierro, gouging a slab of flesh out and causing a large spray of blood.

The panther turned and tried to maul or maim Shinji, but the Kenpachi used Sonído mixed with a shunpō to escape the range of Grimmjow's rending claws. The instincts in Grimmjow seemed to finally take notice, and he began to follow Shinji's Sonído across the clearing. The chase lasted for minutes, before Shinji returned to stand before Aizen, and Aizen wondered why Shinji wasn't using his shikai to end the fight that much more quickly. But when Grimmjow came to leap towards Shinji, that drove the thought out of his mind as the Hollow seemed ready to gore the boy, to maul and maim him. Shinji stood stock-still, and then sighed.

" _Ikkotsu!_ " he cried, throwing a punch so vicious and brutal that it caught the cat in the chest, shattering his Hierro and causing blood to be forced out of the Adjuchas's jaws. Shinji then said, "Las Cadenas del Cielo."

His reiatsu flared as he spoke, flowing into the spell as he cast and shackling the Adjuchas-class Hollow in the air with chains made of reishi going in from violet swirling portals all around him. Aizen nodded approvingly.

"What?! What is this shit?!" cried Grimmjow.

"Hollow Kidō," replied Shinji. "Now, will you please settle down? I'm here to make you a Vasto Lorde."

Grimmjow stilled in his struggling. "A Vasto Lorde?"

"Indeed," replied Shinji. "I will give you a Shinigami to eat should you serve me, and in time, when the Hōgyoku is finished, I shall make you both Arrancar as I am."

Aizen looked on as both Hollows considered his proposal. Ordinarily, they would have rather died than obey, but power was the one language that everyone, human, Quincy, Shinigami and Hollow, all understood. It was the common tongue in this world created by the Soul King.

"And what is the Hōgyoku?" asked Nelliel at last.

"The world seed we came here to feed," replied Aizen. "And it will break Barragan's tyranny over this world."

"Anything like that seems like a good thing to me," replied Nelliel.

Shinji laughed. "Welcome aboard, then. Go to where you came from and await our calling. When it is time to move against Barragan, we shall call you. Grimmjow, I will make special arrangements for you when the time comes."

Grimmjow bowed his head. "Fine."

Shinji smiled, and it was a genuine smile that warmed the heart. "Good. _Releed._ "

The chains pulled away into the portals, which disintegrated into reishi. Grimmjow was back on all fours, and slunk away with his tail between his legs. Nelliel nodded her head and began to leave as well. Shinji smiled. "The same goes for you."

Shinji turned to regard the bat-winged Vasto Lorde standing furtively behind them. The other two Shinigami turned to regard the Hollow, and started. Aizen regained himself so quickly that the untrained eye would never have gotten wind of him being startled at all. With the vast sea of reiatsu coming off of both Shinji and Nelliel, restrained though it was in both cases, the other Vasto Lorde went unnoticed, given that with enough ambient reiatsu, the ability to sense changes in reiryoku became somewhat numbed temporarily. Shinji took Kokoronai Tenshi and inscribed, in the language of souls which was Japanese, what read as "Anata no onamae wa?"

The bat-winged, horned Hollow, covered in white Hierro, devoid of ears and a mouth, replied to the writing on the sand. _Ore no namae wa Uruquiorra Sifer._

"Ulquiorra Cifer," remarked Shinji. "What an enigmatic name."

Nobody laughed at his joke.

In the same language, Shinji wrote, "Would you like to join us?"

The Vasto Lorde wrote a single character. _Un._

And so began the Espada.


End file.
